THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF ILLINOIS 
 LIBRARY 
 
 From the collection of 
 Julius Doerner, Chicago 
 Purchased, 1918. 
 
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MENDELSSOHN’S LETTERS, 
 
 FROM* 1833 TO 1847. 
 
/’.'■I 
 
L E T T E R S 
 
 OF 
 
 FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTIIOLDY 
 
 FROM 1833 TO 1847. 
 
 EDITED BY PAUL MENDELSSOHN BARTUOLDY, AND DR. CARL MENDELSSOHN 
 BARTHOLDY, 
 
 WITH 
 
 A CATALOGUE OF ALL UIS MUSICAL COMPOSITIONS. 
 
 COMPILED BY 
 
 DR. JULIUS RIETZ. 
 
 TRANSLATED BY LADY WALLACE. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 LEY P OLD T AND HOLT. 
 1868. 
 
I g 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The Letters of Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy from Italy 
 and Switzerland have amply fulfilled the purpose of 
 their publication, by making him personally known to 
 the world, and, above all, to his countrymen. 
 
 Those Letters, however, comprise only a portion of 
 the period of Mendelssohn’s youth ; and it has now 
 become possible, by the aid of his own verbal delinea- 
 tions, to exhibit in a complete form that picture of his 
 life and character which was commenced in the former 
 volume. 
 
 This has been distinctly kept in view in the selection 
 of the following letters. They commence directly after 
 the termination of the former volume, and extend to 
 Mendelssohn’s death. They accompany him through 
 the most varied relations of his life and vocation, and 
 thus lay claim, at least partially, to another kind of 
 interest from that of the period of. gay, though not 
 insignificant, enjoyment, depicted by him in the letters 
 written during his travels. For example, the negotia- 
 
VI 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 tions on the subject of his appointment at Berlin take 
 up a large space ; but this is inevitable, so ..characteris- 
 tic are they of the manner in which he conceived and 
 conducted such matters, while they reveal to us much 
 that hes outside his own personal character, and thus 
 possess a more than merely biographical value. 
 
 On the other hand, the minute details of the pure and 
 elevated happiness which Mendelssohn enjoyed in his 
 most intimate domestic relations are expressly with- 
 held, as being the peculiar treasure of his family, and a 
 few passages only have been selected for publication 
 from these letters, which, however, are sufficiently clear 
 on the point. In conclusion, it should be observed, 
 that no letter addressed to any living person has been 
 published without express permission readily accorded. 
 
 A Catalogue of all Mendelssohn’s compositions, com- 
 piled by Herr Kapellmeister Dr. Julius Eietz, is added 
 as a supplement, which, by its classification and arrange- 
 ment, will no doubt prove an object of interest both to 
 musicians and amateurs of music. 
 
 Berlin ajid ITeidelhergy 
 June^ 1863 . 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 To Pastor BaueRj Beszig. 
 
 Berlin, March 4th, 1838. 
 
 Since I set to work again, I feel in such good spirits 
 that I am anxious to adhere to it as closely as possible, 
 so it monopolizes every moment that I do not spend 
 with my own family. Such a period as this last half- 
 year having passed away makes me feel doubly grate- 
 ful. It is like the sensation of going out for the first 
 time after an illness ; and, in fact, such a term of uncer- 
 tainty, doubt, and suspense really amounted to a 
 malady, and one of the worst kind too.* I am now, 
 however, entirely cured ; so, when you think of me, 
 do so as of a joyous musician, who is doing many things, 
 who is resolved to do many more, and who would fain 
 accomphsh all that can be done. 
 
 For the life of me I cannot rightly understand the 
 meaning of your recent question and discussion, or 
 what answer I am to give you. Universality, and 
 everything bordering on aesthetics, makes me forth- 
 
 * At the period to which Mendelssohn here refers, owing to the 
 advice of his friends, he had applied for the situation of Director of the 
 Singing Academy, but was not chosen. 
 
2 
 
 Mendelssohn's letters 
 
 with quite dumb and dejected. Am I to tell you how 
 you ought to feel? You strive to discriminate between 
 an excess of sensibility and genuine feeling, and say 
 that a plant may bloom itself to death. 
 
 But no such thing exists as an excess of sensibility ; 
 and what is designated as such in fact, rather a 
 dearth of it. The soaring, elevated emotions inspired 
 by music, so welcome to listeners, are no excess ,* for 
 let him who can feel do so to the utmost of his power, 
 and even more if possible ; and if he dies of it, it will 
 not be in sin, for nothing is certain but what is felt or 
 believed, or whatever term you may choose to employ ; 
 moreover, the bloom of a plant does not cause it to 
 perish save when forced, and forced to the uttermost ; 
 and in that case, a sicldy blossom no more resembles 
 a healthy one, than sickly sentimentality resembles 
 true feeling. 
 
 I am not acquainted with Herr W , nor have I 
 
 read his book ; but it is always to be deplored when 
 any but genuine artists attempt to purify and restore 
 the public taste. On such a subject words are only 
 pernicious ; deeds alone are efficient. For even if people 
 do really feel this antipathy towards the present, they 
 cannot as yet give anything better to replace it, and 
 therefore they had best let it alone. Palestrina effected 
 a reformation during his life ; he could not do so now 
 any more than Sebastian Bach or Luther. The men 
 are yet to come who will advance on the straight road, 
 and who will lead others onwards, or back to the an- 
 cient and right path, which ought, in fact, to be termed 
 the onward path ; but they will write no books on the 
 subject 
 
PLEASURE IN HIS PURSUITS. 
 
 3 
 
 To Pastor Bauer, Beszig. 
 
 Berlin, April 6th, 1883. 
 
 My work, about which I had recently many doubts, 
 is finished ; and now, when I look it over, I find that, 
 quite contrary to my expectations, it satisfies myself. 
 I believe it has become a good composition ; but, be that 
 as it may, at all events I feel that it shows progress, 
 and that is the main point. So long as I feel this to 
 be the case, I can enjoy life and be happy ; but the 
 most bitter moments I ever endured, or ever could have 
 imagined, were during last autumn, when I had my 
 misgivings on this subject. Would that this mood of 
 happy satisfaction could but be hoarded and stored 
 up I But the worst of it is, that I feel sure I shall have 
 forgotten it all when similar evil days recur, and I can 
 devise no means of guarding against this, nor do I be- 
 heve that you can suggest any. As, however, a whole 
 mass of music is at this moment buzzing in my head, 
 I trust that it will not, please Grod, quickly pass away. 
 
 Strange that this should be the case at a time in 
 other respects so imbued with deep fervour and ear- 
 nestness, for I shall leave this place feehng more solitary 
 than when I came. I have found my nearest relatives, 
 my parents, my brother and sisters, alone unchanged ; 
 and this is a source of happiness for which I certainly 
 cannot be too grateful to Grod; indeed, now that I am 
 (what is called) independent, I have learned to love and 
 honour and understand my parents better than ever ; 
 but then I see many branching off to the right and to 
 the left, who I had hoped would always go along with 
 
4 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 me ; and yet I could not follow them on their path, even 
 if I wished to do so. 
 
 The longer I stay in Berlin, the more do I miss Eietz, 
 
 and the more deeply do I deplore his death. X 
 
 declares that the fault lies very much with myself, be- 
 cause I insist on having people exactly as I fancy they 
 ought to be, and that I have too much party spirit for 
 or against a person ; but it is this Very spirit the want 
 of which I feel so much here. I hear plenty of opinions 
 given ; but where there is no fervour there can be no 
 sound judgment ; and where it does exist, though it 
 may indeed not unfrequently lead to error, still it often 
 tends towards progress too, and then we need not take 
 refuge in past times, or anywhere else, but rather re- 
 joice in the present, if only for bringing with it in its 
 course a spring or an Easter festival. 
 
 To Pastor Julius Sohubring, Dessau. 
 
 Coblenz, September 6th, 1833. 
 
 Dear S chubring, 
 
 J ust as I was beginning to arrange the sheets of my 
 oratorio,* and meditating on the music that I intend to 
 write for it this winter, I received your letter enclosing 
 your extracts, which appeared to me so good that I 
 transcribed the whole text so far as it has gone, and 
 now return it to you with the same request as at first, 
 that you will kindly send me your remarks and additions. 
 You will perceive various annotations on the margin as 
 
 * “St. Paal.^ 
 
COMPOSITION OF “ ST. PAUL. 
 
 6 
 
 to tlie passages I wish to have from the Bible or the 
 Hymn Book. I am anxious also to have your opinion 
 — 1st. As to the form of the whole, especially the nar- 
 rative part, and whether you think that the general 
 arrangement may be retained, ^ — the blending of the 
 narrative and dramatic representation. I dare not 
 adopt the Bach form along with this personified recital ; 
 so this combination seems to me the most natural, and 
 not very difficult, except in such passages, for example? 
 as Ananias, owing to the length of the continuous 
 narration. 2d. Whether you are of opinion that any of 
 the principal features in the history or the acts, and also 
 in the character and teaching, of St. Paul, have been 
 either omitted or falsified. 3d. Where the divisions of 
 the first and second parts should be marked. 4th. 
 Whether you approve of my employing chorales. 
 From this I have been strongly dissuaded hy various 
 people, and yet I cannot decide on giving it up entirely, 
 for I think it must be in character with any oratorio 
 founded on the New Testament. If this be also your 
 opinion, then you must supply me with all the hymns 
 and passages. You see I require a great deal, from you, 
 but I wish first to enter fully into the spirit of the words, 
 and then the music shall follow ; and I know the interest 
 you take in the work. 
 
 If you will do all this for me, write me a few lines 
 immediately to Berlin, for I am obhged to go there for 
 three or four days with my father, who went to England 
 with me, and was dangerously ill there. Thank G-od, 
 he is now quite restored to health; but I was under 
 sucli dreadful apprehension the whole time, that I shall 
 leave. nothing undone on my part to see him once more 
 
6 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 safe at home. I must, however, return forthwith and 
 proceed to Diisseldorf, where you are probably aware 
 that I directed the Musical Festival, and subsequently 
 decided on taking up my abode there for two or three 
 years, nominally in order to direct the church music, and 
 the Yocal Association, and probably also a new theatre 
 which is now being built there, but in reality for the 
 purpose of securing quiet and leisure for composition. 
 The country and the people suit me admirably, and in 
 winter St. Paul ” is to be given. I brought out my 
 new symphony in England, and people liked it; and 
 now the “ Hebrides ” is about to be published, and also 
 the symphony. This is all very gratifying ; but I hope 
 the things of real value are yet to come. I trust it may 
 be so. It is not fair in me to have written you such a 
 half-dry and wholly serious letter, but such has been the 
 character of this recent period, and so I am become in 
 some degree like it. 
 
 To I. Moscheles, London. 
 
 Berlin, 1883. 
 
 . . . Do you suppose that I have not gone to hear 
 
 Madame B because she is not handsome, and wears 
 
 wide hanging sleeves ? This is not the reason, although 
 there are undoubtedly some physiognomies which can 
 never, under any circumstances, become artistic, — from 
 which such icy cold emanates that their very aspect 
 Ireezes me at once. But why should I be forced to 
 listen for the thirtieth time to all sorts of variations by 
 
HERZ’S PrANOFORTE MUSIC. 
 
 7 
 
 Herz? They cause me less pleasure than rope-dancers 
 or acrobats. In their case we have at least the barbarous 
 excitement of fearing that they may break their necks, 
 and of seeing that nevertheless they escape doing so. 
 But those who perform feats of agility on the piano do 
 not even endanger their lives, but only our ears. In 
 such I take no interest. I wish I could escape the 
 annoyance of being obliged to hear that the public 
 demands this style ; I also form one of the public, and I 
 demand the exact reverse. Moreover, she played in 
 the theatre between the acts, and that I consider most 
 obnoxious. First, up goes the curtain, and I see before 
 me India, with her pariahs and palm-trees and prickly 
 plants, and then come death and murder, so I must 
 weep bitterly ; then up goes the curtain again, and I see 
 
 Madame B with her piano, and a concert ensues in 
 
 every variety of minor key, and I must apj)laud with 
 all my might; then follows the farce of “Ein Stiindchen 
 vor dem Potsdamer Thor,” and I am expected to 
 laugh. Ho! This I cannot stand, and these are the 
 reasons why I do not deserve your censure. I stayed 
 at home because I like best to be in my own room, or 
 with my own family, or in my own garden, which is 
 wonderfully beautiful this year. If you will not believe 
 me, come and judge for yourself. I cannot resist 
 always reverting to this. 
 
8 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To Eebecoa DirichleTj Berlin. 
 
 Dfisseldorf, October 26th, 1833. 
 
 My dear Sister, 
 
 The history of my life during the last few weeks 
 is long and pleasant. Sunday, Maximilian’s day, was 
 my first Mass ; the choir crammed with singers, male 
 and female, and the whole church decorated with green 
 branches and tapestry. The organist flourished away 
 tremendously, up and down. Haydn’s Mass was scan- 
 dalously gay, but the whole thing was very tolerable. 
 Afterwards came a procession, playing my solemn march 
 in E flat, — the bass performers repeating the first part, 
 while those in the treble went straight on; but this 
 was of no consequence in the open air ; and when I 
 encountered them later in the day, they had played the 
 march so often over that it went famously ; and I con- 
 sider it a high honour that these itinerant musicians have 
 bespoken a new march from me for the next fair. 
 
 Previous to that Sunday, however, there was rather 
 a touching scene. I must tell you that really no appro- 
 priate epithet exists for the music which has been 
 hitherto given here. The chaplain came and com- 
 plained to me of his dilemma ; the Burgomaster had 
 said that though his predecessor was evangelical, and 
 perfectly satisfied with the music, he intended himself 
 to form part of the procession, and insisted that the 
 music should be of a better class. A very crabbed old 
 musician, in a threadbare coat, was summoned, whose 
 office it had hitherto been to beat time. When he came, 
 and they attacked him, he declared that he neither 
 could nor would have better music ; if any improvement 
 
SEARCH FOR GOOD MUSIC. 
 
 9 
 
 was required, some one else must be employed ; that 
 he knew perfectly what vast pretensions some people 
 made now-a-days, everything was expected to sound 
 so beautiful ; this had not been tlie case in his day, and 
 he played just as well now as formerly. I was really 
 very reluctant to take the affair out of his hands, 
 'though there could be no doubt that others would do 
 infinitely better ; and I could not help thinking how I 
 should myself feel, were I to be summoned some fifty 
 years hence to a town-hall, and spoken to in this strain, 
 and a young greenhorn snubbed me, and my coat was 
 seedy, and I had not the most remote idea why the 
 music should be better ; and I felt rather uncomfortable. 
 
 Unluckily, I could not find among all the music here 
 even one tolerable solemn Mass, and not a single one of 
 the old Italian masters ; nothing but modern dross. I 
 took a fancy to travel through my domains in search 
 of good music ; so, after the Choral Association on 
 Wednesday, I got into a carriage and drove off to 
 Elberfeld, where I hunted out Palestrina’s Imprope- 
 ria,” and the Misereres of Allegri and Bai, and also the 
 score and vocal parts of ‘‘ Alexander’s Feast,” which I 
 carried off forthwith, and went on to Bonn. There I 
 rummaged through the whole hbrary alone, for poor 
 Breidenstein is so ill that it is scarcely expected he can 
 recover ; but he gave me the key, and lent me what- 
 ever I chose. I found some splendid things, and took 
 away with me six Masses of Palestrina, one of Lotti 
 and one of Pergolesi, and Psalms by Leo and Lotti, 
 etc., etc. At last, in Cologne I succeeded in finding 
 out the best old Italian pieces which I as yet know, 
 particularly two motetts of Orlando Lasso, which aro 
 1 * 
 
10 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 wonderfully fine, and even deeper and broader than the 
 two “ Crucifixus” of Lotti. One of these, Populus 
 meus,” we are to sing in church next Friday. 
 
 The following day was Sunday : so the steamboat did 
 not come, and, knowing that my presence was neces- 
 sary in Di'isseldorf, I hired a carriage and drove here. 
 People were crowding along the chaussee from every- 
 direction; a number of triumphal arches had been 
 erected, and the houses all adorned with lamps. I 
 arrived with my huge packet, but not a single person 
 would look at it; nothing but ^Hhe Crown Prince,” 
 “ the Crown Prince,” again and again. He arrived 
 safely at the Jagerhof on Sunday evening, passing 
 under all the triumphal arches during the time of the 
 illuminations, and amidst the pealing of bells and firing 
 of cannon, with an escort of burgher guards, between 
 lines of soldiers, and to the sound of martial music. 
 Next day he gave a dinner, to which he invited me, 
 and I amused myself famously, because I was very 
 jovial at a small table with Lessing, Hiibner, and a few 
 others. Besides, the Crown Prince was as gracious as 
 possible, and shook hands with me, saying that he was 
 really quite angry at my forsaking both him and Berlin 
 for so long a time, — listened to what I had to say 
 called me forward from my corner as “ dear Mendels- 
 sohn:” in short, you see I am thought infinitely more 
 precious when I am a little way from home. 
 
 I must now describe to you the fete that was given 
 in his honour, and for which I suggested the employ- 
 ment of some old transparencies, to be connected, by 
 appropriate verses for Israel in Egypt,” with tableaux 
 vivants. They took place in the great Hall of the Aca- 
 
ISRAEL IN EGYPT. 
 
 11 
 
 demy, where a stage was erected. In front was the 
 double chorus (about ninety voices altogether), stand- 
 ing in two semicircles round my English piano ; and in 
 
 the room seats for four hundred spectators. R , in 
 
 mediaeval costume, interpreted the whole affair, and 
 contrived very cleverly, in iambics, to combine the dif- 
 ferent objects, in spite of their disparity. 
 
 He exhibited three transparencies : — first, Melan- 
 choly,” after Barer, a motett of Lotti’s being given by 
 men’s voices in the far distance ; then the Raphael, 
 with the Virgin appearing to him in a vision, to which 
 the “ 0 Sanctissima” was sung (a well-known song, 
 but which always makes people cry) ; thirdly, St. 
 Jerome in his tent, with a song of Weber’s ^‘Hor’ uns, 
 Wahrheit.” This was the first part. How came the 
 best of all. We began from the very beginning of 
 “ Israel in Egypt.” Of course you know the first reci- 
 tative, and how the chorus gradually swells in tone ; first 
 the voices of the alti are heard alone, then more voices 
 join in, till the loud passage comes with single chords. 
 They sighed,” etc. (in G- minor), when the curtain 
 rose, and displayed the first tableau, “ The Children of 
 Israel in bondage,” designed and arranged by Bende- 
 mann. In the foreground was Moses, gazing dreamily 
 into the distance in sorrowful apathy ; beside him an 
 old man sinking to the ground under the weight of a 
 beam, while his son makes an effort to relieve him from 
 t ; in the background some beautiful figures with up- 
 lifted arms, a few weeping children in the foreground, 
 — the whole scene closely crowded together like a mass 
 of fugitives. This remained visible till the close of the 
 6rst chorus ; and when it ended in C minor, the curtain 
 
12 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 at tne same moment dropped over the bright picture. 
 A finer efiect I scarcely ever saw. 
 
 The chorus then sang the plagues, hail, darkness, and 
 the first-born, without any tableau ; but at the chorus, 
 “ He led them through like sheep,” the curtain rose 
 again, when Moses was seen in the foreground with 
 raised staflp, and behind him, in gay tumult, the same 
 figures who in the first tableau were mourning, now all 
 pressing onwards, laden with gold aud silver vessels ; 
 one young girl (also by Bendemann) was especially 
 lovely, who, with her pilgrim’s stall', seemed as if 
 advancing from the side scenes and about to cross the 
 stage. Then came the choruses again, without any 
 tableau, “ But the waters,” ‘‘ He rebuked the Bed Sea,’ 
 
 Thy right hand, 0 Lord,” and the recitative, ‘‘And 
 Miriam, the Prophetess,” at the close of which the solo 
 soprano appeared. At the same moment the last tableau 
 was uncovered, — Miriam, with a silver timbrel, sound- 
 ing praises to the Lord, and other maidens with harps 
 and citherns, and in the background four men with 
 trombones, pointing in different directions. The soprano 
 solo was sung behind the scene, as if proceeding from 
 the picture ; and when the chorus came in forte^ real 
 trombones, and trumpets, and kettle-drums, were 
 brought on the stage, and burst in like a thunder-clap. 
 Handel evidently intended this effect, for after the com- 
 mencement he makes them pause till they come in 
 again in C major, when the other instruments recom- 
 mence. And thus we concluded the second part. 
 
 This last tableau was by Hiibner, and pleased me 
 exceedingly. The effect of the whole was wonderfully 
 fine. Much might possibly have been said against it 
 
Alexander’s feast.’ 
 
 13 
 
 had it been a pretentious affair, but its character was 
 entirely social, and not public, and I think it would 
 scarcely be possible to devise a more charming fete. 
 The next that followed was a tableau vivant^ designed 
 and arranged by Schadow, Lorenzo de’ Medici, sur- 
 rounded by the Geniuses of Poetry, Sculpture, and 
 Painting, leading to him Dante, Eaphael, Michael An- 
 gelo, and Bramante,” with a complimentary allusion to 
 the Crown Prince, and a final chorus. The second di- 
 vision consisted of the comic scenes from the ^^Midsum- 
 mer Night’s Dream,” represented by the painters here; 
 but I did not care so much for it, having bjeen so absorb- 
 ed by the previous one. 
 
 How would you translate in the same measure the 
 following line : — 
 
 “ So Love was crowned, but Music won the cause” ? * 
 
 Ramler, with the genuine dignity of a translator, says, 
 “ Heil, Liebe, dir ! der Tonkunst Ehr’ und Dank” (All 
 hail to thee, 0 Love ! to Music thanks and honour), 
 which has no point, and is anything but a translation ; 
 the first part of the Ode closes with these lines, so the 
 whole sense would be lost, for the pith of the sentence 
 lies in the word won^ Give me some good hint about 
 this ; for on the 22d of November, we come before the 
 public with Alexander’s Feast,” the overture to ‘^Eg- 
 mont,” and Beethoven’s concerto in C minor. I am told 
 that an orchestra is to be constructed in Becker’s Hall, 
 for two hundred persons. All who can sing, or play, or 
 pay, are sure to be there. Tell me if I shall resume my 
 
 * From “ Alexander’s Feast.” 
 
 2 
 
14 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 Greek here.* I feel very much disposed to do so, but 
 fear it will not go on very swimmingly. Could 1 
 understand ^schylus ? tell me this honestly. Further, 
 do you attend to my advice about pianoforte playing 
 and singing? If you want any songs, as Christmas 
 draws near, you can get them from me if you wish it. 
 Send for the “ Hebrides” arranged as a duett; it is, no 
 doubt, published by this time. I think, however, that 
 the overture to Melusina” will be the best thing 1 
 have as yet done ; as soon as it is finished I will send 
 it to you. Adieu. Felix. 
 
 To ms Father. 
 
 Bonn, December 28th, 1883. 
 
 Dear Father, 
 
 First of all, I must thank you for your kind, loving 
 letter, and I rejoice that even before receiving it I had 
 done what you desired.f Strange to say, my official 
 acceptance, I must tell you, was sent last week to 
 Schadow ; the biography was enclosed, so I expect the 
 patent next week ; but I must thank you once more for 
 the very kind manner in which you write to me on the 
 subject, and I feel proud that you consider me worthy 
 of such a confidential tone. • 
 
 The people in Diisseldorf are an excitable race ! The 
 
 * Mendelssohn’s sister had learned Greek along with him. 
 t The subject in question was Mendelssohn’s nomination (which 
 aftervvards ensued) as a member of the musical class of the Academy of 
 Art in Berlin, as to the acceptance of which he had been doubtful. 
 
A CLASSICAL PERFORM ANCE. 
 
 15 
 
 Don Juan” affair amused me, although riotous enough, 
 and Immermann had a sharp attack of fever from sheer 
 vexcition.* As you, dear Mother, like to read news- 
 papers, you shall receive in my next letter all the 
 printed articles on the subject, which engrossed the at- 
 tention of the whole town for three long days. After 
 the grand scandale had fairly begun, and the curtain 
 three times dropped and drawn up again, — after the 
 first duett of the second act had been sung, entirely 
 drowned by whistling, shouting, and howling, — after a 
 newspaper had been flung to the manager on the stage, 
 that he might read it aloud, who on this went off in a 
 violent huff, the curtain being dropped for the fourth 
 time, — I was about to lay down my hdtoUj though I 
 would far rather have thrown it at the heads of some of 
 these fellows, when the uproar suddenly subsided. The 
 shouting voices were hoarse, and the well-conducted 
 people brightened up; in short, the second act was 
 played in the midst of the most profound silence, and 
 much applause at the close. After it was over, all the 
 actors were called for, but no one came, and Immerma-nn 
 and I consulted together in a shower of fiery rain and 
 gunpowder smoke — among the black demons — as to 
 what was to be done. I declared that until the com- 
 pany and I had received some apology, I would not 
 again conduct the opera; then came a deputation of 
 several members of the orchestra, who in turn said that 
 
 * Irnmermaim and Mendelssohn had agreed to give a certain number 
 of performances in the theatre, which they termed “ classical.” A cer- 
 tain portion of the public considered this to be arrogance on their i)art, 
 and as the prices were also raised on the occasion, at the first perform- 
 ance the tumult ensued that Mendelssohn here describes. 
 
16 
 
 mendelssoun’s letters. 
 
 if I did not conduct the opera they would not play ; then 
 the manager of the theatre began to lament, as he had 
 already disposed of all the tickets for the next perform- 
 ance. Immermann snubbed everybody all round, and 
 in this graceful manner we retreated from the field. 
 
 Next day in every corner appeared, “ Owing to ob- 
 stacles that had arisen,” etc. etc. ; and all the people 
 whom we met in the streets could talk of nothing but 
 this disturbance. The newspapers were filled with 
 articles on the subject; the instigator of the riot justi- 
 fied himself, and declared that in spite of it all he had 
 had great enjoyment, for which he felt grateful to me 
 and to the company, and gave his name ; as he is a 
 Government secretary, the president summoned him, 
 blew him up tremendously, and sent him to the direc- 
 tor, who also blew him up tremendously. The soldiers 
 who had taken part in the tumult were treated in the 
 same manner by their officers. The Association for 
 the Promotion of Music issued a manifesto begging for 
 a repetition of the opera and denouncing the disturb- 
 ance. The Theatrical Committee intimated that if the 
 slightest interruption of the performance ever again 
 occurred, they would instantly dissolve. I procured 
 also from the committee full powers to put a stop to 
 the opera in case of any unseemly noise. Last Monday 
 it was to be given again ; in the morning it was uni- 
 versally reported that the manager was to be hissed, 
 on account of his recent testiness; Immermann was 
 seized with fever, and I do assure you that it was with 
 feelings the reverse of pleasant that I took my place in 
 the orchestra at the beginning, being resolved to stop 
 the performance if there was the slightest disorder. But 
 
GOETHE AND ZELTER. 
 
 17 
 
 the moment I advanced to my desk the audience re- 
 ceived me with loud applause, and called for a flourish 
 of trumpets in my honour, insisting on this being three 
 times repeated, amid a precious row ; then all were as 
 still as mice, while each actor received his share of 
 applause ; in short, the public were now as polite as 
 they formerly were unruly. I wish you had seen the 
 performance: individual parts could not, I feel sure, 
 have been better given ; the quartett, for instance, and 
 the ghost in the finale at the end of the opera, and 
 almost the whole of Leporello,” went splendidly, and 
 caused me the greatest pleasure. I am so glad to hear 
 that the singers who at first, I am told, were pre- 
 judiced against me personally, as well as against these 
 classical performances, now say they would go to the 
 death for me, and are all impatience for the time when I 
 am to give another opera. I came over here for Christmas, 
 by Cologne and the Rhine, where ice is drifting along, 
 and have passed a couple of quiet pleasant days here. 
 
 And now to return to the much-talked-of correspon- 
 dence between Groethe and Zelter. One thing struck 
 me on this subject : when in this work Beethoven or 
 any one else is abused, or my family unhandsomely 
 treated, and many subjects most tediously discussed, I 
 remain quite cool and calm ; but when Reichardt is in 
 question, and they both presume to criticize him with 
 great arrogance, I feel in such a rage that I don’t 
 know what to do, though I cannot myself explain why 
 this should be so. His Morgengesang” must un- 
 luckily rest for this winter ; the Musical Association is 
 not yet sufficiently full fledged for it; but the first 
 musical festival to which I go it shall be there* It is 
 
18 
 
 Mendelssohn's letters. 
 
 said tney will not be able to have it at Aix-la- 
 Chapelle, and that it is to be given at Cologne, and 
 many of my acquaintances urge me strongly to pay my 
 court to one or the other, in which case I should be 
 selected ; but this I never will do. If they should choose 
 me without this, I shall be glad ; but if not, I shall 
 save a month’s precious time (for it will take that at 
 least), and remain as I am. Having been obliged to give 
 three concerts this winter, besides the “ Messiah” and 
 the ISTozze di Figaro,” I think I have had nearly enough 
 of music for the present, and may now enjoy a little 
 breathing-time. But how is it. Mother, that you ask 
 whether I must conduct all the operas ? Heaven forbid 
 there should be any must in the case, for almost every 
 week two operas are given, and the performers con- 
 sider themselves absolved by one rehearsal. I am only 
 one of the members of the Theatrical Association, 
 chosen to be on the select committee, who give six or 
 eight classical performances every year, and elect a 
 council for their guidance, this council consisting of 
 Immermann and myself; we are therefore quite in- 
 dependent of the rest, who consequently feel increased 
 respect for us. 
 
 When the great Theatrical Association is fairly esta- 
 blished, and the theatre becomes a settled and civic in- 
 stitution, Immermann is resolved to give up his situa- 
 tion in the Justiciary Court, and to engage himself for 
 five years as director of the theatre. Indeed, I hear 
 that most of the shareholders have only given their 
 signatures on condition that he should undertake the 
 plays, and I the operas ; how this may be, lies close 
 hidden as yet in the womb of time, but in any event I 
 
LETTER FROM LINDBLAD. 
 
 19 
 
 will not entirely withdraw from the affair. I have 
 composed a song for Immermann’s “ Hofer/’ or rather, 
 I shoisild say, arranged a Tyrolese popular melody for 
 it, and also a French march ; but I like the thing, and 
 mean to send it to Fanny. We think of giving “ Hofer” 
 this winter, and perhaps also Das laute Greheimniss,’* 
 and “Nathan,’’ or the “Brant von Messina,” or both. 
 You also advise me, Mother, to acquire the habit of 
 dictation ; but in the mean time I can get through by 
 the use of my own pen, and intend only to have re- 
 course to such a dignified proceeding in the greatest 
 possible emergency.* Thank you very much for the 
 letter you sent me from Lindblad.t It gave me great 
 pleasure, and made me like my concerto far better than 
 I did before, for I know few people whose judgment I 
 respect more than his. I can as little explain this, or 
 give any reason for it, as for many another feeling ; but 
 it is so ; and when I have finished a thing, whether 
 successful or a failure, he is the first person, next to 
 yourself, whose opinion I should be glad to hear. 
 That a piece so rabidly sketched as this pianoforte con- 
 certo should cause pleasure to so genuine a musician, 
 enhances mine; and so I thank you much for the 
 letter. But it is high time to close this letter and this 
 year, to which I am indebted for many blessings and 
 much happiness, and which has been another bright 
 year for me. 
 
 I thank you also, dear Father, now as ever, for having 
 gone with me to England for my sake ; and though my 
 
 * He never had reconrse to it. Mendelssohn wrote invariably every • 
 thing, without exception, himself, 
 t Music Director in Stockholm. 
 
20 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 advice, which you followed for the first time, proved so 
 unfortunate, and caused us all so much anxiety and un- 
 easiness, you never once reproached me. Still I think, 
 since you write that you are now perfectly well and in 
 good spirits, the journey may have contributed to this. 
 May these happy results be still further increased during 
 the approaching year, and may it bring you all every 
 blessing. Farewell. 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To HIS Family. 
 
 Dusseldorf, January 16th, 1884. 
 
 We are leading a merry life here just now, casting 
 aside all care ; every one is full of fun and jollity. 1 
 have just come from the rehearsal of Egmont,” where, 
 for the first time in my life, I tore up a score from rage 
 at ‘the stupidity of the musicij whom I feed with 6-8 
 time in due form, though they are more fit for babes’ 
 milk; then they like to belabour Sach other in the 
 orchestra. This I don’t choose they should do in my 
 presence : so furious scenes sometimes occur. At the 
 air, “ Glucklich allein ist die Seele die liebt,” I fairly 
 tore the music in two, on which they played with much 
 more expression. The music delighted me so far, that 
 I again heard something of Beethoven’s for the first 
 time ; but it had no particular charm for me, and only 
 two pieces — the march in C major, and the movement 
 in 6-8 time, where Klarchen is seeking Egmont — are 
 quite after my own heart. To-morrow we are to have 
 another rehearsal ; in the evening the Prince gives a 
 
EXCURSION TO ELBERFELD. 
 
 21 
 
 ball, wliicli will last till four in the morning, from which 
 I could excuse myself if I were not so very fond of 
 dancing. I must now tell you about my excursion to 
 Elberfeld. Sunday was the concert : so in the morning 
 I drove there in a furious storm of thunder and rain. 
 I found the whole musical world assembled in the inn, 
 drinking champagne at twelve in the forenoon, instead 
 of which I ordered chocolate for myself. A pianoforte 
 solo of mine had been announced, after which I 
 intended to have come away immediately ; but, hear- 
 ing that there was to be a ball in the evening, I re- 
 solved not to set off till night, and as they had intro- 
 duced music from “ Oberon” in the second part, feeling 
 myself* in a vein for extemporizing, I instantly took up 
 their last ritournelle^ and continued playing the rest of 
 the opera. There was no great merit in this : still it 
 pleased the people wonderfully, and at the end I was 
 greeted with plaudits loud enough to gratify any one. 
 As the room was crowded, I promised to return in the 
 course of the winter to play for the benefit of the poor. 
 The Barmers sent me a deputation of three Barmer 
 ladies to persuade me to go there on Monday ; and, as 
 my travelling companion had both time and inclination 
 for this, I played extempore on the Monday afternoon 
 in the Barmer Musical Association, and then a quartet t 
 in Elberfeld, travelled through the night, and arrived at 
 home at four on Tuesday morning, as my hour for re- 
 ceiving people is from eight to nine. The Barmer fan- 
 tasia was well designed ; I must describe it for Fanny. 
 
 A poem had been sent me anonymously, at the end 
 of which I was advised to marry (of course this waa 
 said in good poetry, interwoven with laurel leaves and 
 
22 
 
 Mendelssohn's letters. 
 
 immortelles ) ; and, wishing to respond to this compli- 
 ment, I began with my “ Bachelor’s Song” (though, 
 unluckily, no one found out its meaning, but that was 
 no matter), continuing to play it gayly for some time ; 
 I then brought in the violoncello with the theme, 
 “ Mir ist so wunderbar,” and so far it was very success- 
 ful. I was anxious, however, before closing, to intro- 
 duce some matrimonial felicity, but in this I utterly 
 failed, which spoiled the conclusion. I wish, however, 
 you had been present at the beginning, for I believe 
 you would have been pleased. I think I already wrote 
 to you that my fantasia in F sharp minor, Op. 28,* is 
 about to be published. I have introduced a fine massive 
 passage in octaves in my new E flat rondo ; I am now 
 going to work at my scena for the Philharmonic, to edit 
 the three overtures, to compose another trio or a sym- 
 phony, and then comes “ St. Paul.” Addio. 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To I. Moscheles, London. 
 
 Diisseldorf, February 7, 1834. 
 
 My own poverty in novel passages for the piano struck 
 me very much in the Rondo })rillant\ which I wish to 
 dedicate to you ; these are what cause me to demur, 
 and to torment myself; and I fear you will remark 
 this. In other respects there is a good deal in it that 
 I like, and some passages please me exceedingly ; but 
 
 * This fantasia and the E flat rondo (with orchestra), Op. 29, are 
 both dedicated to Moscheles. 
 
 t E flat (with orchestra), Op. 29. 
 
THE PUBLIC AND THE CRITICS. 
 
 23 
 
 how I am to set about composing a methodical tranquil 
 piece (and I well remember you advised me strongly 
 to do this last spring) I really cannot tell. All that I 
 now have in my head for the piano is about as tranquil 
 as Cheapside,* and even when I control myself, and 
 begin to extemporize very soberly, I gradually break 
 loose again. On the other hand, the scena which I am 
 now writing for the Philharmonic is, I fear, becoming 
 much too tame ; but it is needless to carp so much at 
 myself, and I work hard : by saying this you will see 
 that I am well, and in good spirits. Dear Madame 
 Moscheles, when you, however, advise me to remain 
 quite indifferent towards the public and towards critics, 
 I must in turn ask. Am I not, in my profession, an anti- 
 ‘public-caring musician, and an anti-critical one into the 
 bargain ? What is Hecuba to me, or critics either ? 
 (I mean the press, or rather pressure) ; and if an over- 
 ture to Lord Eldon were to suggest itself to me, in the 
 form of a reversed canon, or a double fugue with a 
 cantus JirmuSj I should persist in writing it, though it 
 would certainly no^. be popular, — far more, therefore, a 
 “ lovely Melusina,” who is, however, a very different 
 object ; only it would be fatal indeed were I to find 
 that I could no longer succeed in having my works per- 
 formed ; but as you say there is no fear of this, then I 
 say, long live the public and the critics I but I intend to 
 live too, and to go to England next year if possible. 
 
 Your observations on Keukomm’s music find a com- 
 plete response in my own heart. What does astonish 
 me is, that a man of so much taste and cultivation 
 
 ♦ Well known as the most crowded street in London, 
 
mendelssohn’3 letters. 
 
 - 24 
 
 should not, with such qualifications, write more elegant 
 and refined music j for, without referring to the ideas 
 or the basis of his works, they appear to me most care- 
 lessly composed, and even commonplace. He also 
 employs brass instruments recklessly, which ought, 
 through discretion even, to be sparingly used, to say 
 nothing of artistic considerations. Among other things, 
 I am particularly pleased by the mode in which Handel, 
 towards the close, rushes in with his kettle-drums and 
 trumpets, as if he himself were belabouring them. 
 There is no one who would not be struck by it ; and it 
 seems to me far better to imitate this, than to over-ex- 
 cite and stimulate the audience, who before the close 
 have become quite accustomed to all this Cayenne 
 pepper. I have just looked through Cherubini’s new 
 opera,* and though I was quite enchanted with many 
 parts of it, still I cannot but deeply lament that he so 
 often adopts that new corrupt Parisian fashion, as if the 
 instruments were nothing and the effect everything, — 
 flinging about three or four trombones, as if it were the 
 audience who had skins of parchment instead of the 
 drums : and then in his finales he winds up with hide- 
 ous chords, and a tumult and crash most grievous to 
 listen to. Compare with these some of his earlier 
 pieces, such as “ Lodoiska” and “Medea,” etc., etc., 
 where there is as much difference in brightness and 
 genius as between a living man and a scarecrow ; so I 
 am not surprised that the opera did not please. Those 
 who like the original Cherubini cannot fail to be pro- 
 voked at the way in which he yields to the fashion of 
 
 * “ Ali Raba/ 
 
COMPOSING FOR THE PHILHARMONIC. 25 • 
 
 the day, and to the taste of the public ; and those who 
 do not like the original Cherubini find far too much oF 
 his own style still left to satisfy them either, no matter 
 what pains he may take to do so, — he always peeps 
 forth again in the very first three notes. Then they 
 call this rococoj perruque^ etc., etc. 
 
 To HIS Father. 
 
 Dusseldorf, March 28, 1834. 
 
 Dear Father, 
 
 A thousand thanks for your kind letter on my Mo- 
 ther’s birthday. I received it in the midst of a general 
 rehearsal of the “ Wassertrager,” otherwise I should 
 have answered it, and thanked you for it, the same 
 day. Pray do often write to me. Above all, I feel 
 grateful to you for your admonitions as to industry, and 
 my own work. Beheve me, I intend to profit by your 
 advice ; still I do assure you that I have not an atom 
 of that philosophy which would counsel me to give 
 way to indolence, or even in any degree to palliate it. 
 During the last few weeks, it is true, I have been inces- 
 santly engaged in active business, but exclusively of a 
 nature to teach me much that was important, and cal- 
 culated to improve me in my profession ; and thus I 
 never lost sight of my work. 
 
 My having composed beforehand the pieces bespoken 
 by the Philharmonic and the English publishers, was 
 owing not only to having received the commission, but 
 also to my own inward impulse, because it is really 
 3 
 
26 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 very long since I have written or worked at anything 
 steadily, for which a certain mood is indispensable. 
 But all this tends to the same point ; so I certainly do 
 not believe that these recreations will dispose me to 
 become either more careless or more indolent ; and, as 
 I said before, they really are not mere amusements, but 
 positive work, and pleasant work often, too. A good 
 performance in the Diisseldorf theatre does not find its 
 way into the world at large, — indeed, scarcely perhaps 
 beyond the Ddssels themselves; but if I succeed in 
 thoroughly delighting and exciting both my own feel- 
 ings and those of all in the house in favour of good 
 music, that is worth something, too ! 
 
 The week before the “ Wassertrager” was given was 
 most fatiguing ; every day two great rehearsals, often 
 from nine to ten hours each on an average, besides the 
 preparations for the church music this week : so that I 
 was obliged to undertake the regulation of everything, 
 — the acting, the scenery, and the dialogue, — or it 
 would all have gone wrong. On Friday, therefore, I 
 came to my desk feeling rather weary ; we had been 
 obliged to have a complete general rehearsal in the fore- 
 noon, and my right arm was quite stiff. The audience, 
 too, who had neither seen nor heard of the “ Wasser- 
 trager ” for the last fifteen or twenty years, were under 
 the impression that it was some old forgotten opera, 
 which the committee wished to revive, and all those 
 on the stage felt very nervous. This, however, gave 
 exactly the right tone to the first act; such tremor, 
 excitement, and emotion pervaded the whole, that at 
 the second piece of music the Diisseldorf opposition 
 kindled into enthusiasm, and applauded and shouted 
 
THE WASSERTRAGErJ 
 
 27 
 
 and wept by turns. A better Wassertrager than Glln- 
 ther I never saw ; he was most touching and natural, 
 and yet with a shade of homeliness, too, so that the 
 noblesse might not appear too factitious. He was im- 
 mensely applauded, and twice called forward; this 
 rather spoiled him for the second performance, when 
 he overacted his part, and was too confident; but I 
 wish you could have seen him the first time ! It is long 
 since I have had such a dehghtful evening in the theatre, 
 for I took part in the performance hke one of the spec- 
 tators, and laughed, and applauded, and shouted 
 bravo I” yet conducting with spirit all the time; the 
 choruses in the second act sounded as exact as if fired 
 from a pistol. The stage was crowded between the 
 acts, every one pleased, and congratulating the singers. 
 The orchestra played with precision, except some plaguy 
 fellows who, in spite of aU my threats and warnings, 
 could not be prevailed on to take their eyes ofi* the 
 stage during the performance, and to look at their 
 notes. On Sunday it was given again, and did not go 
 half so well ; but I had my full share of enjoyment the 
 first time, though the house on this second occasion 
 was far more crowded, and the efiect the same. I write 
 you all these details, dear Father, for I know that you 
 are interested in this opera, and in our provincial 
 doings. We really have as much music, and as good 
 music, as could be expected during my first winter 
 here. To-morrow evening (Grood Friday) we are to 
 sing in church the “Last Seven Words” of Palestrina, 
 which I found in Cologne, and a composition of Lasso, 
 and on Sunday we give Cherubini’s Mass in C major. 
 The Government order prohibiting the celebration of 
 
28 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 the Musical Pestival on Whitsunday is a bad business ; 
 tlie news came yesterday, and has inflicted such a blow 
 on the festival that here we have no idea how it can be 
 arranged, for on no other day can we reckon on so 
 much support from strangers. The first meeting of the 
 Theatrical Association took place recently ; the matter 
 has been very sensibly begun, and may turn out well ; 
 but I keep out of the way, because, in spite of the 
 pleasure that the opera, for instance, lately caused me, 
 I can feel no sympathy for actual theatrical life, or the 
 squabbles of the actors and the incessant striving after 
 effect; it also estranges me too much from my own 
 chief purpose in Diisseldorf, which is to work for my- 
 self. I am the chief superintendent of the musical per- 
 formances, the arrangements of the orchestra, and the 
 engagement of the singers, and about every month I 
 have an opera to conduct (but even this is to depend 
 on my own convenience) ; of course I still have my 
 three months’ vacation : in short, I wish to be entirely 
 independent of the theatre, and only to be considered 
 a friend, but with no official duties ; on this account I 
 have given up all claim to any salary, which is to be 
 transferred to a second conductor, on whom the chief 
 trouble will devolve. A circumstance that occurred 
 yesterday will amuse you. During the Carnival there 
 was a pretty girl here who played the piano, the 
 daughter of a manufacturer near Aix-la-Chapelle, and 
 whose relations, though strangers to me, asked me to 
 allow her to play to me occasionally, to benefit by my 
 advice, — in fact, to give her a few lessons. This I ac- 
 cordingly did, and read her some severe lectures on all 
 her Herz music and so forth, and on the day of her 
 
SEYDELMANNS ACTING. 
 
 29 
 
 departure she left this with a quantity of newly-pur- 
 chased Mozart and Beethoven ; so yesterday an h ed a 
 large parcel for me, with a very polite letter of thanks 
 from her father, saying he had sent me a piece of cloth 
 from his manufactory, as an acknowledgment. I could 
 scarcely believe this at first, but the parcel really con- 
 tained enough of the finest black cloth to make an en- 
 tire suit. This savours of the Middle Ages; the painters 
 are mad with envy at my good luck. 
 
 Last week I had a great pleasure, for Seydelmann, 
 from Stuttgart, was here, and enchanted us all. I have 
 not felt such unalloyed delight since I saw Wolff; so 
 artistic, so elevated : such acting proves what a noble 
 thing a play may be. I saw him first in the “ Essig- 
 handler” and “Koch Yatel.” People compare him to 
 Iffland ; but I never in my life heard so thrilling a voice, 
 or such pure harmonious German. I then saw him as 
 Cromwell, in Raupach’s “ Royalisten ; ” it was the first 
 piece I had seen of Raupach’s, and I am not the least 
 anxious to see a second, for I thought it quite odious ; 
 incongruous, tiresome, and full of theatrical phrases, so 
 that even Seydelmann could not give it dignity in spite 
 of his stern and gloomy countenance and costume ; but 
 then came “Nathan,” which went off admirably, and 
 Seydelmann, as Nathan, could not be excelled. I 
 thought of you, and wished you were here, a hundred 
 times at least; when he told the story of the rings, it was 
 just as if you saw a broad tranquil stream gliding past, 
 so rapid and flowing, and yet so smooth and unruffled ; 
 the words of the discreet judge were most exciting. It 
 is indeed a splendid piece ! It is good to know that 
 there is such clearness in the world. It, however, of- 
 3 * 
 
30 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 fends many ; and when we were next day on the G-ra- 
 fenberg we had war to the knife, because Schadow was 
 so irritable on the subject, and a gentleman from Berlin 
 declared, that ^‘viewed in a dramatic aspect ...” I 
 did not argue the point at all, for where there is such a 
 total difference of opinion on any subject, and about 
 first principles, there is nothing to be done. 
 
 I must now ask your advice on a particular subject. 
 I have long wished to ride here, and when Lessing 
 lately bought a horse, he advised me strongly to do the 
 same. I think the regular exercise would do me good, 
 — this is in favour of the scheme ; but against it there 
 is the possibihty of its becoming an inconvenient and 
 even tyrannical custom, as I should think it my duty to 
 ride, if possible, every day. Then I also wished to 
 ask you whether you don’t think it rather too genteel 
 for me, at my years, to have a horse of my own. In 
 short, I am undecided, and beg now, as I have often 
 done before, to hear your opinion, by which mine will 
 be regulated. Farewell, dear Father. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Fanny Hensel, Berlin. 
 
 Dusseldorf, April Ttli, 1S84. 
 
 Dear Fanny, 
 
 You are no doubt very angry with such a lazy non- 
 writing creature as myself ? but pray remember that I 
 am a town music director, and a beast of burden like 
 that has much to do. Lately on my return home I 
 found two chairs standing on my writing-table, the 
 
OVERTURE TO “ MELUSINA. 
 
 31 
 
 guard of the stove lying under the piano, and on my 
 bed a comb and brush, and a pair of boots (Bendemann 
 and Jordan had left these as visiting-cards). This was, 
 or rather is, the exact state of musical life in Dtissel- 
 dorf ; and before things become more orderly here, it 
 will cost no little toil. So you must now more than 
 ever excuse my indolence about letter-writing, and, 
 indeed, write yourself oftener to stir me up, and heap 
 coals of fire on my head. Your letter to which I am 
 now replying, was inimitable ; a few more such I beg. 
 You say, by the by, that you speak of ^^Melusina” just 
 
 hke X . I only wish this was true, and then, 
 
 instead of a meagre Hofrath^ we should have a solid 
 fellow; but listen! I must fly into a passion. Oh, 
 Banny, you ask me what legend you are to read ? How 
 many are there, pray ? and how many do I know ? and 
 don’t you know the story of the “ lovely Melusina” ? 
 and would it not be better for me to hide myself, and 
 to creep into all sorts of instrumental music without 
 any title, when my own sister (my wolf sister !) does 
 not appreciate such a title ? Or did you really never 
 hear of this beautiful fish ? But when I remember how 
 you might grumble at me for waiting till April to 
 grumble at your letter of February^ I plead guilty and 
 apologize. I wrote this overture for an opera of Con- 
 radin Kreuzer’s, which I saw this time last year in the 
 Konigstadt Theatre. The overture (I mean Kreuzer’s) 
 was encored, and I disliked it exceedingly, and the 
 whole opera quite as much ; but not Mile. Hahnel, who 
 was very fascinating, especially in one scene, where she 
 appeared as a mermaid combing her hair ; this inspired 
 me with the wish to write an overture which the people 
 
’62 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 might not encore^ but which would cause them more 
 solid pleasure ; so I selected the portion of the subject 
 that pleased me (exactly corresponding with the 
 legend), and, in short, the overture came into the 
 world, and this is its pedigree. 
 
 You intend, no doubt, to take me to task also on ac- 
 count of the Tour-part song in my “ Yolks Lieder but 
 I have a good deal of experience on this point. It seems 
 to me the only mode in which Volks Lieder ought to 
 be written ; because every pianoforte accompaniment 
 inst-antly recalls a room and a music-desk, and also 
 because four voices can give a song of this kind in 
 greater simplicity without an instrument ; and if that 
 reason be too aesthetic, then accept this one, that I was 
 anxious to write something of the kind for Woringen, 
 who sings' these things enchantingly. Seriously, how- 
 ever, I find that the four-part songs do “suit the text 
 (as a Volks Lied) and also my conception,” and so you 
 see we differ very widely. 
 
 By the by, I quite forgot to say that I wished to in- 
 troduce a Waldteufel into the “Passion.” It is a 
 good idea. Don’t whisper it to any one, or to a cer- 
 tainty they will really attempt it next year; and 
 Polchau declares the Eomans were familiar with them, 
 under the name of diabolus nemoris. Onl}^ fancy, they 
 have sent me my Academy patent in a formidable red 
 case (cariiage paid), and in it a very ancient statute of 
 the “Academy for the fine arts and mechanical 
 sciences,” along with a complimentary letter, hoping 
 I would return to Berlin, where my “productions” 
 were as highly prized as elsewhere. An excellent 
 reason; had they only said “because, respected Sir, 
 
DUSSELDORF TROUBLES. 
 
 33 
 
 you can nowhere feel so happy as in the Leipziger 
 Strasse, iSTo. 3,” or even given any hint about parents 
 and brother and sisters — but not a word of this ! 
 
 One of my Diisseldorf troubles is at this moment 
 beginning ; I mean my next-door neighbour, who has 
 placed her piano against the wall just on the other 
 side of mine, and to my sorrow practises two hours a 
 day, making every day the same mistakes, and playing 
 all Rossini’s airs in such a desperately slow, phlegmatic 
 tempo j that I certainly must have played her some 
 malicious trick, had it not occurred to me that she was 
 probably at all hours more tormented by my piano than 
 I by hers. Then I sometimes hear the teacher or the 
 mother (I can’t tell which) strike the right note dis- 
 tinctly seventeen times in succession ; and when she is 
 playing at sight, and gradually out of the darkness de- 
 velopes some old barrel-organ tune, which could be re- 
 cognized by a single note, — it is hard to bear. I know 
 all her pieces by heart now, the moment she strikes the 
 first chord. — Farewell, dear Sister. Ever your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To HIS Mother. 
 
 Dusseldorf, May 23d, 1834. 
 
 . . . Yesterday week I drove with the two Worin- 
 gens to Aix-la-Chapelle, as a ministerial order was 
 issued, only five days before the festival, sanctioning 
 the celebration of Whitsunday, and expressed in such a 
 manner that it is probable the same permission may be 
 
34 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 given next year also. The diligence was eleven hours 
 on the journey, and I was shamefully impatient, and 
 downright cross when we arrived. We went straight 
 to the rehearsal, and, seated in the pit, I heard a move- 
 ment or two from Deborah;” on which I said to 
 Woringen, I positively will write to Hiller from here, 
 for the first time for tWo years, because he has per- 
 formed his office so well.” For really his work was un- 
 pretending and harmonious, and subordinate to Handel, 
 from whom he had cut out nothing ; so I was rejoiced to 
 see that others are of my opinion, and act accordingly. 
 In the first tier was seated a man with a moustache, 
 reading the score; and when, after the rehearsal, he 
 went downstairs, and I was coming up, we met in the 
 passage, and who should stumble right into my arms 
 but Ferdinand Hiller, who almost hugged me to death 
 for joy ! He had come from Paris to hear the oratorio, 
 and Chopin had left his scholars in the lurch and come 
 with him, and thus we met again. I had now my full 
 share of delight in the Musical Festival, for we three 
 lived together, and got a private box in the theatre 
 (where the oratorio is performed), and of course next 
 morning we betook ourselves to the piano, where I had 
 the greatest enjoyment. They have both improved 
 much in execution, and, as a pianist, Chopin is now one 
 of the very first of all. He produces new effects, hke 
 Paganini on his violin, and accomplishes wonderful pas- 
 sages, such as no one could formerly have thought 
 practicable. Hiller, too, is an admirable player — vigo- 
 rous, and yet playful. Both, however, rather toil in the 
 Parisian spasmodic and impassioned style, too often 
 losing sight of time and sobriety and of true music ; I, 
 
CHOPIN AND Hiller’s piano playinh. 35 
 
 again, do so perhaps too little : thus we all three mutually 
 learn something and improve each other, while I feel 
 rather like a school-master, and they a little hke mirli- 
 flors or incroydbles. After the festival we travelled 
 together to Diisseldorf, and passed a most agreeable day 
 there, playing and discussing music ; then I accompa- 
 nied them yesterday to Cologne. Early this morning 
 they went off to Coblenz per steam, — I in the other di- 
 rection, — and the pleasant episode was over. 
 
 To Pastor Julius Schubring, Dessau. 
 
 Diisseldorf, July 15th, 1834. 
 
 Dear Schubring, 
 
 It is now nearly a year since I ought to have writ- 
 ten to you. I shall not attempt to ask your forgiveness 
 at all, for I am too much to blame, or to excuse myself, 
 for I could not hope to do so. How it occurred I can- 
 not myself understand. Last autumn, when I first es- 
 tablished myself here, I got your letter with the notices 
 for “ St. Paul;” they were the best contributions I had 
 yet received, and that very same forenoon I began to 
 ponder seriously on the matter, took up my Bible in the 
 midst of all the disorder of my room, and was soon so 
 absorbed in it that I could scarcely force myself to at- 
 tend to other works which I was absolutely obliged t(v 
 finish. At that time I intended to have written to you 
 instantly, to thank you cordially for all you had done ; 
 then it occurred to me it would be better to wait till 1 
 could teU you that the work was fairly begun ; and 
 
36 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 when I really did commence in spring, so many anxie- 
 ties about my composition ensued, that they unsettled 
 me. To-day, however, I cannot rest satisfied with 
 merely thinking of you, but must write and ask how 
 you and yours are ; for I know that since then you 
 have had an increase to your family ; it was scarcely 
 fair in you not to write me a single word on the sub- 
 ject, nor even to send me a formal card, but to allow 
 me to hear of the event by chance, through a third per- 
 son ; for, though I grant that I well deserved this, still 
 a pastor like you should be the last to take revenge on 
 any one, or to bear them a grudge. Now, pray don’t 
 do so with me, and let me hear something of you. 
 
 Your contributions for St. Paul” were admirable, 
 and I made use of them aU without exception ; it is sin- 
 gular, and good, that, in the course of composition, all 
 the passages that from various reasons I formerly wish 
 to transpose or to alter, I have replaced exactly as I 
 find them in the Bible — it is always the best of all ; 
 more than half of the first part is ready, and I hope to 
 finish it in autumn, and the whole in February. How 
 are you now living in Dessau ? I hope you will be able 
 to say, “Just as we used to do.” No doubt you retain 
 your enjoyment of life, and your cheerfulness, and still 
 play the p'ano, and still love Sebastian Bach, and are 
 still what you always were. I ought not to feel such 
 anxiety on the subject, but we are surrounded here by 
 disagreeable specimens of pastors, who embitter every 
 pleasure, either of their own or of others ; dry, prosaic 
 pedants, who declare that a concert is a sin, a walk 
 frivolous and pernicious, but a theatre the lake of brim- 
 stone itself, and the whole spring, with its leaves and 
 
THE ELBERFELD TENETS. 
 
 37 
 
 blossoms and bright weather, a Slough of Despond. 
 You have no doubt heard of the Elberfeld tenets ; but 
 when in contact with them, they are still worse, and 
 most grievous to witness. The most deplorable thing 
 is the arrogance with which such people look down on 
 others, having no belief in any goodness but their own. 
 
 Our musical life here goes on slowly, but still it does 
 go on. This summer we executed in church a Mass of 
 Beethoven, one of Cherubini, and cantatas of Sebastian 
 Bach, an ^‘Ave Maria” from ^‘Yerleih’ uns Frieden,” 
 and next month we are to give Handel’s “ Te Deum ” 
 (Dettingen). 
 
 Of course there is yet much to be wished for, but still 
 we hear these works, and both the performance and the 
 performers will be gradually improved by them. Hau- 
 ser, in Leipzig, has arranged the score (from manuscript 
 parts) of a cantata in E minor of Sebastian Bach, which 
 is one of the finest things of his I know. When I can 
 find an opportunity, I will send you a copy of it, but 
 now my paper and my letter are done. Farewell, my 
 dear firiend, and write soon. — Your 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To L Furst, Berlin. 
 
 Dusseldorf, July 20th, 1834 . 
 
 Dear Fiirst, 
 
 I know only too well that I have neither written to 
 you, nor thanked you, since I received your passages for 
 
 4 
 
38 
 
 MENDELSSOHNS LETTERS. 
 
 ‘‘ St. Paul ; ” * but I assure you that every day, when I 
 return to my work, 1 do feel sincerely grateful to you. 
 I certainly, however, ought to have written ; for if the 
 work, which since the spring entirely absorbs and 
 monopolizes me, turns out good, I shall have chiefly to 
 thank your friendly aid for it, because I never other- 
 wise could have procured the groundwork of the text. 
 When I am composing, I usually look out the Scriptural 
 passages myself, and thus you will find that much is 
 simpler, shorter, and more compressed than in your 
 text; whereas at that time I could not get words 
 enough, and was constantly longing for more. Since I 
 have set to work, however, I feel very difierently, and 
 I can now make a selection. The first part will probably 
 be finished next month, and the whole, I think, by 
 January. Since last autumn, when I came here, I have 
 written many other works which brought me into a 
 happy vein, and I cannot wish for a more agreeable 
 position than mine here, where I have both leisure in 
 abundance, and a cheerful frame of mind, and so I suc- 
 ceed better than formerly. 
 
 This is, indeed, a pleasant, concentrated life, but still 
 not so much so as you may perhaps imagine, for, un- 
 luckily, just as I came here, Immermann and Schadow, 
 whose combined efibrts first imparted life and animation 
 to this place, had a violent quarrel, aggravated still 
 further by religious, political grounds, and by wran- 
 glings, misunderstandings, and petulance. As I live in 
 the same house with Schadow, and am engaged along 
 with Immermann in regulating the new theatre, I do 
 
 * For the text of “ St. Paul.’ 
 
39 
 
 FAIR AT DtisSELDORF. 
 
 all I can to smooth over matters ; but in vain, — which 
 is a great misfortune. When, however, this is rectified 
 (and, in spite of everything, I do not despair of it), 
 then all will be delightful, for the way in which we 
 young people associate is really enjoyable. The painters 
 are entirely devoid of the slightest arrogance or envy, 
 and live together in true friendship, and among them 
 are some of the most admirable persons, who are 
 examples to the others, such as Hildebrand, and Bende- 
 mann, and between them the — the tall, quiet 
 
 Lessing. All this is cheering ; and if you could only 
 hear in our church music the bass of the choir, it would 
 do your heart good to see one capital fellow of a painter 
 standing next another, and all shouting like demons. 
 This very morning we had some very good music in 
 the church, in which all took part ; and when Immer- 
 mann gives a new piece, they paint the decorations for 
 it gr atis, and when they have a feast, he composes a 
 poem for them, which I set to music, — and all tliis is 
 pleasant, and in good-fellowship. 
 
 But there is a fair to-day, which means that the whole 
 of Diisseldorf are drinking wine, — not as if this were 
 not the case every day, but they walk about besides ; 
 not as if they did not do this also every day, but they 
 dance besides (in this frightful heat), and shout, and get 
 tipsy ; and wild beasts are exhibited, and puppet-shows, 
 and cakes baked in the public streets. So now you 
 know what a fair means. As a curious spectator, I 
 must go there late in the evening, but, first, I intend to 
 plunge into the Ehine with a lot of painters. Fare- 
 well, till we meet in Berhn, in September. — Ever yours, 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdv. 
 
40 
 
 MENDELSSOHNS LETTERS. 
 
 To HIS Parents. 
 
 Diisseldorf, August 4th, 1834. 
 
 My dear Parents, 
 
 For a week past, during which we have had heavy 
 storms and a very sultry atmosphere, I felt so jaded 
 that I was unable to do anything all day long ; more 
 especially I cannot compose, which vexes me exceed- 
 ingly. I seem to care for nothing beyond eating and 
 sleeping, and perhaps bathing and riding. My horse is 
 a favourite with all my acquaintances, and deserves 
 their respect from his good temper ; but he is very shy ; 
 and when I was riding him lately during a storm, every 
 flash made him start so violently, that I felt quite sorry 
 for him. Lately we made an excursion on horseback 
 
 to Saarn, for Madame T ^s birthday, which was 
 
 celebrated by wreaths of flowers, fireworks, shooting, a 
 large society, a ball, etc. etc. The route was as charm- 
 ing as ever, though different from what it was in 
 spring ; the apple-tree in the bowling-green, which was 
 then in blossom, was now loaded with unripe green 
 apples ; and sometimes I was able to ride across the 
 stubble-fields and to get into the thick shady wood by 
 a side path. We met several diligences at the very 
 same places, and even the very same flocks of sheep, 
 and there was the same noisy, merry life going on in 
 the blacksmith’s forge, and a burgher in Eathingen was 
 shaving himself just the same, — thus reviving my old 
 philosophy, which you, dear Father, always ignore. 
 
 The next day I rode on to Werden, a charming re- 
 tired spot, where I wished to inquire about an organ ; 
 the whole party drove with me there ; cherry tarts 
 
BATHING IN THE RUHR. 
 
 41 
 
 were handed to me on horseback out of the carriages. 
 We dined in the open air atWerden; I played fan- 
 tasias and Sebastian Bachs on the organ to my heart’s 
 content; then I bathed in the Ruhr, so cool in the 
 evening breeze that it was quite a luxury, and rode 
 quietly back to Saarn. The bathing in the Ruhr was 
 peculiarly agreeable ; first of all, a spot close to the 
 water with high grass, in which large hewn stones were 
 lying, as if placed there by some Sultan to shade him 
 and his clothes; then close to the shore the water 
 comes up to your chin, and the green hills opposite 
 w^e brightly lighted up by the evening sun ; and the 
 little stream flowing very quietly along, and so cool and 
 shady. I felt myself in G-ermany indeed when, as I 
 was swimmmg across, a man on the opposite bank sud- 
 denly stood still, and began a regular conversation with 
 me while I lay in the water puffing, — whether I could 
 touch the ground where I was ? and if swimming was 
 very difficult ? Then, too, I felt myself, alas I quite in 
 Germany when the wife of the organist, to whom I paid 
 a visit, offered me a glass of schnapps^ and regretted so 
 much that her husband was absent just at this time, 
 for he had so many enemies, who all maintained that he 
 could not play the organ, and he might have played to 
 me, and then by my judgment (like Solomon) I could 
 have put to shame all these talkers. Wrangling and 
 discord are to be found everywhere. A handsome new 
 organ has just been put up at considerable expense in 
 a large roomy choir, and there is no way to reach it but 
 by narrow dark steps, without windows, like those in a 
 poultry-yard, and where you may break your neck in 
 seventeen different places ; and on my asking why this 
 4 * 
 
42 
 
 MENDELSSOHNS LETTERS. 
 
 was, the clergyman said it had been left so purposely, 
 in order to prevent any one who chose, running up 
 from the church to see the organ. Yet, with all their 
 cunning, they forget both locks and keys : such traits 
 are always painful to me. 
 
 The evening before this Saarn excursion (a week 
 since) I had a very great pleasure. I had received the 
 proof-sheets of my rondo in E flat, from Leipzig, and, 
 as I was unwilling to have it published without at least 
 trying it over once with the orchestra, I invited all 
 our musicians here to come to the music hall, and 
 played it over with them. As I could not offer tl^em 
 any payment for this, which they would have taken 
 highly amiss, I gave them a souper of roast veal and 
 bread-and-butter, and let them get as tipsy as they 
 could desire. This was not, however, the great plea- 
 sure I alluded to, but my overture to “ Melusina,” 
 which was played there for the first time, and pleased 
 me extremely. In many pieces I know from the very 
 beginning that they will sound well, and be characteris- 
 tic, and so it was with this one as soon as the clarionet 
 started off into the first bar. It was badly played; 
 and yet I derived more pleasure from it than many a 
 finished performance, and came home at night with a 
 gladness of heart that I have not known for a long 
 time. We played it over three times, and the third 
 time, immediately after the last soft chord, the trumpets 
 broke in with a flourish in my honour, which had a 
 most laughable effect. It was very pleasant, too, when 
 we v/ere all seated at dinner, and one of the company 
 commenced a long oration, with an introduction and 
 all sorts of things, but, beginning to flounder, he wound 
 
THE QUEEN OF BAVARIA. 
 
 43 
 
 up by giving my health, on which the ti^umpet and 
 trombone players jumped up like maniacs, and ran off 
 for their instruments to give me another grand flourish ; 
 then I made a vigorous speech, worth of Sir Eobert 
 Peel, in which I strongly enforced unity, and Christian 
 love, and steady time, and with a toast to the progr(^ss 
 of music at Diisseldorf I closed my oration. Then 
 they sang four-part songs, and, among others, one that 
 I gave to Woringen last year at the Musical Festival, 
 called “ Musikantenpriigelei,” the transcriber (one of 
 the players and singers present) having copied it for his 
 own benefit at the time, and coolly produced it on this 
 occasion, which, indeed, I could not myself help laugh- 
 ing at. Then they all vowed that this was the most 
 delightful evening of their whole lives; then they 
 began to wrangle again a little, as a proof of the strong 
 effect my Peel speech had made on them ; then the 
 sober ones of the party, videlicet^ fat Schirmer and I, 
 pacified them once more, and towards midnight we 
 separated ; they having enjoyed the wine, and I still 
 more “ the lovely Melusina,” and next morning at six 
 o’clock I was on horseback on my way to Saaran. A 
 couple of charming days they were ! 
 
 Dear mother, I saw the Queen of Bavaria, but not in 
 state. I was seated in a boat, and just going to jump 
 into the Rhine with two friends, when her Majesty 
 arrived in her steamboat. As none of us possessed any 
 swimming attire, so were not in a very fit state to 
 appear at Court, we sprang just a tempo into the water 
 as she came nearer, and thence saw all the ceremonies, 
 and how Graf S presented the clergy and the Gene- 
 
 rals, and how the senatas populusque Dilsseldorfiensis 
 
44 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 stood on shore and made music. I had no opportunity 
 of seeing the Queen again ; but now I must really con- 
 clude, having gossiped at a great rate. Farewell, my 
 dear parents I 
 
 Felix M. B. 
 
 To Pastor Schubring, Dessau. 
 
 Diisseldorf, August 6th, 1834. 
 
 How could you for one moment imagine that I was 
 annoyed by your showing the text to Schneider ? Why 
 should I take umbrage at that ? I hope you do not 
 consider me one of those who, when once they have an 
 idea in their heads, guard it as jealously as a miser does 
 his gold, and allow no man to approach till they pro- 
 duce it themselves. There is certainly nothing actually 
 wrong in this, and yet such jealous solicitude is most 
 odious in my eyes ; and even if it were to occur that 
 some one should plagiarize my design, still I should 
 feel the same ; for one of the two must be best, which 
 is all fair, or neither are good, and then it is of no 
 consequence. Moreover, I feel very melancholy to-day, 
 and indeed for some days past have been lying here, 
 completely knocked up and unable to write a line, 
 whether from feverishness or the sultriness of the 
 weather, or from what, I know not. The first part of 
 St. Paul” is now nearly completed, and I stand before 
 it ruminating like a cow who is afraid to go through a 
 new door, and I never seem to finish it ; indeed, the 
 overture is still wanting, and a heavy bit of work it will 
 
CHORUS TO “ ST. PAUL. 
 
 45 
 
 be. Immediately after the Lord’s words to St. Paul on 
 his conversion I have introduced a great chorus, ‘‘ Arise 
 and go into the city” (Acts of the Apostles, ix. 6), and 
 this I, as yet, consider the best moment of the first 
 part. 
 
 I don’t know what to say as to your opinion of 
 
 X . I think you are rather hard on him ; and yet 
 
 there is a good deal of truth in what you assert, too, 
 and quite in accordance with what I find in his composi- 
 tions. Put my belief is, that you do him great injustice 
 in pronouncing him to be a flatterer, as he never intends 
 to flatter, but always fully believes in the truth and pro- 
 priety of what he is saying ; but when such an excita- 
 ble temperament is not mitigated by some definite, 
 energetic, and creative powers, or when it can bring 
 forth nothing but a momentary assimilation to some 
 foreign element, then it is indeed unfortunate ; and I 
 almost begin to fear that this is his case, for his composi- 
 tions I exceedingly disapprove of. For a long time 
 past I have reluctantly come to this conclusion, and it 
 pained me as much to admit the truth of it to myself, 
 as to you now. 
 
 I grieve also to hear what you write to me of the 
 
 family, for I know no feeling more distressing than 
 
 that of having enemies ; and yet it seems impossible to 
 be avoided ; at all events, I can say, to my great joy^ 
 that even now, when I am brought into contact (and 
 disagreeable contact, too) with so many different people, 
 no one can say that there is one single person with 
 whom I am not on friendly terms, if they will at all 
 permit me to be so ; and I don’t doubt that it, is the 
 same in your case. 
 
46 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 Your remarks about the theatre are quite as unlucky 
 as Bretschneider’s criticisms; for though I am not 
 myself director, I am what is still worse, — a kind of 
 Honorary Intendant (or whatever you choose to call it) 
 of the new theatre here in spe; and therefore my of- 
 ficial zeal prompts me take up the cause of the stage. 
 But, to speak seriously, I am by no means of your 
 opinion that the theatre is pernicious to three-fourths 
 of mankind, and I believe that those who are injured 
 by it would find the same detriment, or perhaps worse, 
 elsewhere, without any theatre. For there at least we 
 do not find the vapid reality that exists in the world ; 
 and, as a general rule, I do not consider anything 
 wrong in itself because it may possibly lead to bad re- 
 sults, but only when it must inevitably produce them. 
 In a theatrical public, such as you describe, there are 
 only depraved people, and no healthy ones who visit 
 the theatre to see a piece as a work of art. I know 
 that to myself it always was either tiresome or elevat- 
 ing (more commonly the former, I own) but pernicious 
 it never appeared to me ; and to prohibit it on that ac- 
 count . . . but this would involve a wide sphere and a 
 very serious subject, and politics, tiresome as they are, 
 must have their say in the matter ; and all this cannot 
 be thoroughly discussed in so small a sheet of paper as 
 this : perhaps in conversation, — but scarcely even then. 
 
 I intended to have sent you some of my works, but 
 prefer doing so from Berlin ; the “ Meeresstille ” I have 
 entirely remodelled this winter, and think it is now 
 some thirty times better. I have also some new songs 
 and pieces for the piano. You say that the newspapers 
 extol me ; this is always very gratifying, though I sel- 
 
nOME^ THOUGHTS. 
 
 47 
 
 dom read them, either the musical ones or any others ; 
 only occasionally English papers, in which there are 
 some good articles. But my paper is becoming by 
 degrees shorter and shorter, so my letter is done. Fare- 
 well. — Your Felix M. B. 
 
 To HIS Mother. 
 
 Dusseldorf, November 4th, 1834, 
 
 Dear Mother, 
 
 At last I have leisure to thank you for your kind 
 letters ; you know the great delight your writing al- 
 ways causes me, and I would fain hope that it does not 
 fatigue you, for you write in as distinct and classical 
 characters at the end of the letter as at the beginning 
 of the first line, as you always do ; therefore I do en- 
 treat you frequently to bestow this pleasure on me ; 
 that I am truly grateful for it you will readily believe. 
 
 You always take me at once back to my own home, 
 and while I am reading your letters I am there once 
 more; I am in the garden rejoicing in the summer; I 
 visit the Exhibition, and dispute with you about Bende- 
 mann’s small picture ; I rally Grans on his satisfaction 
 at being invited by Metternich, and almost think I am 
 again paying court to the pretty Eussians. To be thus 
 transported home is most pleasant to me just at this 
 time, when during the last few weeks I have been 
 fuming and fretting in a rare fashion at Dusseldorf and 
 its art doings, and Ehenish soaring impulses^ and new 
 efforts I I had fallen into a terrible state of confusion 
 
48 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters 
 
 and excitement, and felt worse than during my busiest 
 time in London. When I sat down to my work in the 
 morning, at every bar there was a ringing at the bell ; 
 then came grumbling choristers to be snubbed, stupid 
 singers to be taught, seedy musicians to be engaged ; 
 and when this had gone on the whole day, and I felt 
 that all these things were for the sole benefit and ad- 
 vantage of the Diisseldorf theatre, I was provoked ; at 
 last, two days ago, I made a salto mortale^ and beat a 
 retreat out of the whole affair, abd once more feel my- 
 self a man. This resignation was a very unpleasant 
 piece of intelligence for our theatrical autocrat, alias 
 stage mufti ; he compressed his lips viciously, as if he 
 would fain eat me up ; however, I made a short and 
 very eloquent speech to the Director, in which I spoke 
 of my own avocations as being of more consequence to 
 me than the Diisseldorf theatre, much as I, etc. : in 
 short, they let me off, on condition that I would occa- 
 sionally conduct ; this I promised, and this I will cer- 
 tainly perform. I began a letter to Rebecca long ago, 
 containing the details of three weeks in the life of a 
 Diisseldorf Intendant, which I have not yet finished, 
 and I upbraid myself for it. 
 
 I have just arrived at that point with St. Paul” 
 when I should be so glad to play it over to some one ; 
 but I can find no eligible person. My friends here are 
 very enthusiastic with regard to it, but this does not 
 prove much in its favour. The cantor"^ is wanting, 
 with her thick eyebrows and her criticism. I have the 
 second part now nearly all in my head, up to the 
 
 * Cantor (leader of a choir), a term Mendelssohn often applied to his 
 sister Fanny. 
 
OVERTURE TO “ ST. PAUL,' 
 
 49 
 
 passage where they take Paul for J upiter, and wish to 
 offer sacrifices to him, for which some five choruses must 
 be found ; but as yet I have not the faintest concep- 
 tion what . . . it is difficult. You ask me, dear 
 
 Mother, whether I have made any arrangements with 
 publishers in Leipzig ; Breitkopf and Hartel lately in- 
 formed me that they would purchase every work I 
 chose to publish, and also a future edition of my col- 
 lected works (does not that sound very grand ?), and 
 mention that they have been very much annoyed by an 
 announcement of another publisher. So you see pos- 
 sibly I may oblige these people ! Besides this, I have 
 had six applications for my music from other pub- 
 lishers in various places. This savours rather of re- 
 nommage ; but I know you like to read of such things, 
 and will forgive me for it. 
 
 To Fanny Hensel, Berlin. 
 
 Dusseldorf, November 14th, 1834. 
 
 My dear Fanny, 
 
 May every happiness attend you on this day, and in 
 the year about to commence, and may you love me as 
 well as ever. I should like this year also to have sent 
 you some piece or other, underneath which I could have 
 written November 14th ; but the weeks of the life of 
 an Intendant” have swallowed up everything, and I am 
 only slowly becoming myself again. A few days ago 
 I sketched the overture of St. Paul,” and thought I 
 should at least contrive to get it finished ; but it is still 
 
 5 
 
MENDELSSOHNS LETTERS. 
 
 bV 
 
 a long’ way behind. If we could only be together now, 
 in the evening, at all events; for when candles are 
 lighted I feel a much greater longing to be at home 
 than in the morning ; and now here are candles, and 
 the days from November 11th and December 11th, up 
 to Christmas and the New Year,* are certainly not the 
 best to be far from home, even if the evenings were 
 not so long. But we must be very busy, and next 
 summer set off on our travels again, and visit each 
 other. My wish at this moment- is, that the time were 
 come ! 
 
 I wonder what you are doing this evening ? Music 
 and society? or the Government newspaper read 
 aloud ? (in which, I am told, Henzel’s school is much 
 extolled, and considered in many respects preferable 
 to ours here !) 
 
 But, my birthday child I we are not likely to agree 
 on this occasion in our opinions about pictures ; for one 
 of the most repugnant to my feelings that I ever saw 
 was that of S . When a work of art aspires to re- 
 
 present factitious misery, like the famine in the wilder- 
 ness, I take no interest in it, if ever so well painted, — 
 which this is not. The whole thing seems to me 
 nothing b^t a variation on Lessing’s Royal Pair,” 
 only this time with dead horses. The tone of art in it 
 is very commonplace, and even if decked out twenty 
 times over with bright colours, that does not make it 
 better I I don’t at all approve, either, of your taking 
 the opportunity of hearing Lafont to speak of the re- 
 volution in the violin since Paganini, for I don’t admit 
 
 * A number of birthdays occurred at this particular period in the 
 family. 
 
LAFONT AND PAGANINI. 
 
 61 
 
 that any such thing exists in art, but only in people 
 themselves; and I think that very same style would 
 have displeased you in Lafont, if you had heard him 
 before Paganini’s appearance, so you must not, on the 
 other hand, do less justice to his good qualities after 
 hearing the other. I was lately shown a couple of new 
 French musical papers, where they allude incessantly 
 to a revolution du gout and a musical transition, which 
 has been taking place for some years past, in which 1 
 am supposed to play a fine part ; this is the sort of thing 
 I do detest. Then I think that I must be industrious, 
 and work hard, “ above all, hate no man, and leave the 
 future to God,” — finish the oratorio completely by 
 March, compose a new A minor symphony and a 
 pianoforte concerto, and then set off again on my 
 travels and visit No. 3, Leipziger Strasse. My second 
 concert took place yesterday, and afterwards a fashion- 
 able soiree^ with no end of Excellencies and fine titles. 
 The day afcer to-morrow I am again to conduct “ Obe- 
 ron,” and shall drive on the orchestra full cry, hke an 
 evil spirit. I have fallen into a very splenetic tone, by 
 no means in keeping with a birthday tone, but I now 
 resume the latter, and wish you all possible good for- 
 tune ; and may 1835 prove a happy year to you, and 
 may you, and all at home, thoroughly enjoy the day. — 
 Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
52 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To Kebecoa Diriohlet, Berlin. 
 
 Diisseldorf, November 23d, 1834. 
 
 My dear, dear Eebecca, 
 
 Can I still expect you to read anything that I write ? 
 I have been remiss, very remiss, in fact behaved 
 shamefully, and I heartily wish it were not so ; but I 
 can’t help it now I Would that I had an opportunity 
 to make up for it ; but unluckily this is not the case ; I 
 can therefore only say that I hope I am still in your good 
 graces, and that I was very foolish. I ought indeed to 
 have said this to you long since, but I could not, for I 
 was resolved to write you a long confidential letter 
 the first day I could find leisure, and this is the very 
 first leisure day. ISTow that it is getting dark, and the 
 shutters closed, and lights brought in at five o’clock, I 
 thought that I must write to you, and, as it were, puU 
 your door-bell and ask if you are at home. Do look 
 kindly on me. 
 
 How things have been going on with me for some 
 time past it would not be easy to say, all has been 
 so detestable. But you really must listen to a little 
 grumbhng from me, that you may never take it into 
 your head to become director of a theatre, nor to per- 
 mit any one belonging to you to accept the office of 
 an intendant. Immediately on my return here* the 
 Intendant breezes were wafted towards me. In the 
 statute it is set forth : — The intendancy is to consist of 
 an intendant and a music director. The Intendant pro- 
 
 * Mendelssohn had made an expedition through part of Germany 
 for the benefit of the theatre, in order to engage singers. 
 
QUARRELS WITH IMMERMANN. 
 
 53 
 
 posed that I should be the musical intendant, and he the 
 theatrical intendant. Then the question arose, which 
 was to take precedence of the other : so here was forth- 
 with a fine piece of work. I wished to do nothing but 
 conduct and direct the musical studies, but this was not 
 enough for Immermann. We exchanged desperately un- 
 civil letters, in which I was obliged to be very circum- 
 spect in my style, in order to leave no point unanswer- 
 ed, and to maintain my independent ground and basis ; 
 but I think I did credit to Herr Heyse.* We came to 
 an agreement after this, but quarrelled again imme- 
 diately, for he required me to go to Aix, to hear and to 
 engage a singer there, and this I did not choose to do. 
 Then I was desired to engage an orchestra, — that is, 
 prepare two contracts for each member, and previously 
 fight to the death about a dollar more or less of their 
 monthly salary ; then they went away, then they came 
 back and signed all the same, then they all objected to 
 sit at the second music desk, then came the aunt of a 
 very wretched performer, whom I could not engage, 
 and the wife and two little children of another misera- 
 ble musician, to intercede with the Director ; then I 
 allowed three fellows to play on trial, and they played 
 so utterly beneath contempt that I really could not 
 agree to take any of them; then they looked very 
 humble, and went quietly away, very miserable, having 
 lost their daily bread; then came the wife again, and 
 wept. Out of thirty persons there was only one who 
 said at once, I am satisfied,” and signed his con- 
 tract; all the others bargained and haggled for an hour 
 
 ♦ Professor Heyse, Mendelssohn’s teacher. 
 
 5 * 
 
54 
 
 MENDELSSOHN'S LETTERS. 
 
 at least, before I could make them understand that I 
 had a prix fixe. The whole day I was reminded of 
 my father’s proverb, “Asking and bidding make the 
 sale;” but they were four of the most disagreeable 
 days I ever passed. On the fourth, Klingemann ar- 
 rived in the morning, saw the state of things, and was 
 horrified. In the mean time Eietz studied the “ Tem- 
 plar,” morning and evening ; the choruses got drunk, 
 and I was forced to speak with authority ; then they 
 rebelled against the manager, and I was obliged to 
 shout at them like the Boots at an inn ; then Madame 
 Beutler became hoarse, and I was very anxious on her 
 account (a new sort of anxiety for me, and a most 
 odious one) ; then I conducted Cherubini’s “ Eequiem” 
 in the church, and this was followed by the first con- 
 cert. In short, I made up my mind to abdicate my In- 
 tendant throne three weeks after the reopening of the 
 theatre. The affair goes on quite as well as we could 
 expect in Diisseldorf : Eietz’s playing is admirable, — 
 he is studious, accurate, and artistic, so that he is 
 praised and hked by every one. The operas we have 
 hitherto given are, the “ Templar ” twice, “ Oberon ” 
 twice, which I conducted, “ Fra Diavolo,” and yester- 
 day the “ Freischiitz.” We are about to perform the 
 “ Entfuhrung,” the “ Zauberflote, ” the “ Ochsen- 
 menuett,” the “ Dorf Barbier,” and the “ Wassertra- 
 ger.” The operas are well attended, but not the plays, 
 so that the shareholders are sometimes rather uneasy ; 
 fi^ e of the company up to this time have actually run 
 away, two of them being members of the orchestra. 
 
 The Committee gave a supper to the company, 
 which was very dull, and cost each member of the 
 
THE VOCAL ASSOCIATION. 
 
 65 
 
 Council (including myself) eleven dollars; but pray 
 refrain from all tokens of sympathy, in case of causing 
 iny tears to flow afresh. But since I have with- 
 drawn from this sphere, I feel as if I were a fish 
 thrown back into the water ; my forenoons are 
 once more at my own disposal, and in the even- 
 ings I can sit at home and read. The oratorio 
 daily causes me more satisfaction, and I have also 
 composed some new songs; the Yocal Association 
 gets on well, and we intend shortly to give the “ Sea- 
 sons,” with a full orchestra. I mean soon to publish 
 six preludes and fugues, two of which you have already 
 seen ; this is the sort of life I like to lead, but not that 
 of an intendant. How vexatious it is, that at the close 
 of such well-spent days we cannot all assemble toge- 
 ther to enjoy each other’s society I* 
 
 * The mode, however, in which Mendelssohn treated this affair of 
 the theatre was by no means approved of by his father ; on the con- 
 trary, some time afterwards he wrote to him as follows : — 
 
 “ I must once more resume the subject of the dramatic career, as I 
 feel very anxious about it on your account. You have not, according 
 to my judgment, either in a productive or administrative point of view, 
 had sufficient experience to decide with certainty that your disinclina- 
 tion towards it proceeds from anything innate in your talents or cha- 
 racter. I know no dramatic composer, except Beethoven, who has not 
 written a number of operas, now totally forgotten, before attaining the 
 right object at the right moment, and gaining a place for himself. You 
 have only made one public effort, which was partly frustrated by the 
 text, and, in fact, was neither very successful nor the reverse. Subse- 
 quently you were too fastidious about the words, and did not succeed in 
 finding the right man, and perhaps did not seek him in a right manner; 
 I cannot but think that by more diligent inquiries and more moderate 
 pretensions you would at length attain your object. With regard tc 
 the administrative career, however, it gives rise to another series of 
 rellections which I wish to impress on you. Those who have the opi)or- 
 tunity and the inclination to become more closely and intimately ac- 
 
56 
 
 MENDELSSOHN^S LETTERS. 
 
 I inclose my translation of “Alexander's Feast;” 
 you must read it aloud to the family in the evening, 
 
 qiiainted with you, as well as all those to whom you have the oppor- 
 tunity and the inclination to reveal yourself more fully, cannot fail to 
 love and respect you. But this is really far from being suificient to 
 enable a man to enter on life with active efficacy ; on the contrary, 
 when you advance in years, and opportunity and inclination fail, both 
 in others and yourself, it is much more likely to lead to isolation and 
 misanthropy. Even what we consider faults will be respected, or at 
 least treated with forbearance, when once firmly and thoroughly esta- 
 blished in the world, while the individual himself disappears. He has 
 least of all arrived at the ideal of virtue who exacts it most inexorably 
 from others. The most stern moral principle is a citadel, with outworks, 
 in defence of which we are unwilling to expend our strength, in order 
 to maintain ourselves with greater certainty in our stronghold, which 
 indeed ought only to be surrendered with life itself. Hitherto it is 
 undeniable that you have never been able to divest yourself of a ten- 
 dency to austerity and irascibility, to suddenly grasping an object and 
 as suddenly relinquishing it, and thus creating for yourself many 
 obstacles in a practical point of view. For example, I must confess 
 that, though I approved of your withdrawing from any active partici- 
 pation in the management of details in the Htisseldorf theatre, I by no 
 means did so of the manner in which you accomplished your object, as 
 you undertook it voluntarily, and, to speak candidly, rather heedlessly. 
 From the beginning you, most wisely, declined any positive compact, 
 but only agreed to undertake the studying and conducting of particu- 
 lar operas, and, in accordance with this resolution, very properly insist- 
 ed on another music director being appointed. When you came here 
 some time ago with the commission to engage Krethi and Plethi, I did 
 not at all like the idea; I thought, however, that, as you were coming 
 here at all events, you could not through politeness decline this service. 
 But on your return to Dusseldorf, after wisely refusing to undertake 
 another journey for the purpose of making engagements for the thea- 
 tre, instead of persevering in your duties in this sense, and getting rid 
 of all odiosa^ you allowed yourself to be overwhelmed by them ; and 
 as they naturally became most obnoxious to you, instead of quietly 
 striving to remedy them, and thus generally to get rid of them, you at 
 one leap extricated yourself, and by so doing you undeniably subjected 
 yourself to the imputation of fickleness and unsteadiness, and made a 
 decided enemy of a man whom at all events policy should have taught 
 
TRANSLATION OF BYRON. 
 
 57 
 
 and in various passages v^here the rhymes are rugged 
 or deficient, if you Tvill let me have your amendments 
 I shall be grateful. One stipulation, however, I must 
 make, that Kamler, or rather, I should say, the English 
 text, should not be sacrificed. Apropos^ since then I 
 have once more mounted Pegasus, and translated Lord 
 Byron’s poem, the first strophe of which, by Theremin, 
 is incomprehensible, and the second false. I find, how- 
 ever, that my lines halt a little ; perhaps, some evening, 
 you may discover something better. 
 
 Schlafloser Augensonne, heller Stern ! 
 
 Der dll mit thranenvollem Schein, unendlich fern, 
 Das Dnnkel nicht erhellst, nur besser zeigst, 
 
 O wie du ganz des Glucks Erinn’rnng gleichst I 
 So funkelt langst vergangner Freuden Licht, 
 
 Es scheint, doch warmt sein matter Schimraer nicht, 
 Der wache Gram ersiiaht die Nachtgestalt, 
 
 Hell, aber fern, klar — aber ach 1 wie kalt 1 
 
 The poem is very sentimental, and I think I should 
 have set it to music repeatedly in Gr sharp minor or B 
 major (but, at all events, with no end of sharps), had it 
 not occurred to me that the music of Lowe pleases you 
 and Eanny ; so this prevents my doing so, and there is 
 an end of it, and my letter also. Adieu, love me as 
 ever. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 you not to displease, and most probably offended and lost the friendli- 
 ness of many members of the Comite also, among whom there are, no 
 doubt, most respectable people. If I view this matter incorrectly 
 then teach me a better mode of judging.” 
 
 This letter will show what an impartial and incorruptible judg« 
 Mendelssohn possessed in his father. 
 
58 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To Carl Klingemann, London. 
 
 Diisseldorf, December 16th, 1834. 
 
 ... So now in these lines you have read my whole 
 life and occupations since I came here ; for that I am 
 well and happy, and often think of you, is included in 
 them, and that I am also diligent and working hard at 
 many things, is the natural result. I really believe that 
 Jean Paul, whom I am at this moment reading with in- 
 tense delight, has also some influence in the matter, for 
 he invariably infects me for at least half a year with his 
 strange peculiarities. I have been reading ^ Fixlein’ 
 again ; but my greatest pleasure in doing so, is the re- 
 membrance of the time when I first became acquainted 
 with it, by your reading it aloud to me beside my sick- 
 bed, when it did me so much good. I also began ‘ Sie- 
 benkas’ again, for the first time for some years, and have 
 read from the close of the prologue to the end of the 
 first part, and am quite enchanted with this noble work. 
 The prologue itself is a masterpiece such as no one else 
 could write, and so it is with the whole book, the 
 friends, and the school-inspector, and Lenette. It re- 
 vives my love for my country, and makes me feel proud 
 of being a G-erman, although in these days they all 
 abuse each other. Yet such people do sometimes rise 
 to the surface, and I do believe that no country can 
 boast of such a sterling fellow as this. 
 
REFORMATION AND REVOLUTION. 
 
 59 
 
 To Rebecca Diriohlet, Berlin. 
 
 Diisseldorf, December 23d, 1834. 
 
 Dear Rebecca, 
 
 Why should we not, like established correspondents, 
 exchange repeated letters on any particular subject 
 about which we differ ? I on my part will represent a 
 methodical correspondent, and must absolutely resume 
 the question of revolution. This is chiefly for Fanny’s 
 benefit; but are not you identical? Can you not, 
 therefore, discuss the subject together, and answer me 
 together, if you choose ? And have I not pondered 
 and brooded much over this theme since I got your 
 letter, which now prompts me to write ? You must, 
 however, answer me in due form, till not one jot or 
 tittle more remains to be said in favour of revolution. 
 Observe, I think that there is a vast distinction between 
 reformation or reforming, and revolution, etc. Re- 
 formation is that which I desire to see in all things, in 
 life and in art, in politics and in street-pavement, and 
 Heaven knows in what else besides. Reformation is 
 entirely negative against abuses, and only removes 
 what obstructs the path ; but a revolution, by means 
 of which all that was formerly good (and really good) 
 is no longer to continue, is to me the most intolerable 
 of all things, and is, in fact, only a fashion. Therefore, 
 I would not for a moment listen to Fanny, when she 
 said that Lafont’s playing could inspire no further in- 
 terest since the revolution effected by Paganini ; for if 
 his playing ever had the power to interest me, it would 
 still do so, even if in the mean time I had heard the 
 Angel Gabriel on the violin. It is just this, however, 
 
60 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 that those Frenchmen I alluded to can form no concep- 
 tion of; that what is good, however old, remains al- 
 ways new, even although the present must differ from 
 the past, because it emanates from other and dissimilar 
 men. Inwardly they are only ordinary men like the 
 former, and have only outwardly learned that some- 
 thing new must come; so they strive to accomplish 
 this, and if they are even moderately applauded or 
 flattered they instantly declare that they have effected 
 a revolution du gout. This is why I behave so badly 
 when they do me the honour (as you call it) to rank 
 me among the leaders of this movement, when I well 
 know that, for thorough self-cultivation, the whole of 
 a man’s life is required (and often does not suffice) ; 
 and also because no Frenchman, and no newspaper, 
 knows or ever can know what the future is to give or 
 to bring; and, in order to guide the movements of 
 others, we must first be in motion ourselves, while such 
 reflections cause us to look back on the past, not for- 
 ward. Progress is made by work alone, and not by 
 talking, which those people do not believe. 
 
 But, for Heaven’s sake, don’t suppose that I wish to 
 disown either reformation or progress, for I hope one 
 day myself to effect a reform in music ; and this, as you 
 may see, is because I am simply a musician, and I wish 
 to be nothing more. How answer me, I beg, and 
 preach to me again. 
 
 To-day I have completed and transcribed an entire 
 chorus for “ St. Paul.” I may as well at once reply 
 here to a letter I received this morning, dictated by my 
 father to Fanny, and to which my mother added a 
 postscript. First of all, I thank you for writing, and 
 
PROGRESS OF “ ST. PAUL. 
 
 61 
 
 then, dear Father, I would entreat of you not to with- 
 hold from me your valuable advice, for it is always 
 clear gain to me ; and if I cannot rectify the old faults, 
 I can at least avoid committing new ones. The non- 
 appearance of St. Paul at the stoning of Stephen is 
 certainly a blemish, and I could easily alter the passage 
 in itself; but I could find absolutely no mode of in- 
 troducing him at that time, and no words for him to 
 utter in accordance with the Scriptural narrative; 
 therefore it seemed to me more expedient to follow the 
 Bible account, and to make Stephen appear alone. I 
 think, however, that your other censure is obviated by 
 the music; for the recitative of Stephen, though the 
 words are long, will not occupy more than two or 
 three minutes, or — including all the choruses — till his 
 death, about a quarter of an hour; whereas subsequent- 
 ly, at and after the conversion, the music becomes more 
 and more dijQfuse, though the words are fewer. 
 
 To Pastor Bauer, Beszig. 
 
 Dusseldorf, January 12th, 1835. 
 
 [About a proposal as to some words for sacred music.^ 
 
 . . . What I do not understand is the purport — 
 musical, dramatic, or oratorical, or whatever you choose 
 to call it — that you have in view. What you mention 
 on the subject — the time before John, and then John 
 himself, till the appearance of Christ — is to my mind 
 equally conveyed in the word ^Advent,’ or the birth of 
 Christ. You are aware, however, that the music must 
 6 
 
62 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 represent one particular moment, or a succession of 
 moments ; and how you intend this to be done you do 
 not say. Actual church music — that is, music during 
 the Evangelical Church service, which could be intro- 
 duced properly while the service was being celebrated — 
 seems to me impossible ; and this, not merely because 
 I cannot at all see into which part of the public wor- 
 ship this music can be introduced, but because I can- 
 not discover that any such part exists. Perhaps you 
 have something to say which may enlighten me on the 
 subject. . . . But even without any reference to the 
 Prussian Liturgy, which at once cuts off everything of 
 the kind, and will neither remain as it is nor go further, 
 I do not see how it is to be managed that music in our 
 Church should form an integral part of public worship, 
 and not become a mere concert, conducive more or less 
 to piety. This was the case with Bach’s “Passion;” 
 it was sung in church as an independent piece of music, 
 for edification. As for actual church music, or, if you 
 like to call it so, music for public worship, I know none 
 but the old Italian compositions for the Papal Chapel, 
 where, however, the music is a mere accompaniment, 
 subordinate to the sacred functions, co-operating with 
 the wax candles and the incense, etc. If it be this 
 style of church music that you really mean, then, as I 
 said, I cannot discover the connecting link which would 
 render it possible to employ it. For an oratorio, one 
 principal subject must be adopted, or the progressive 
 history of particular persons, otherwise the object 
 would not be sufficiently defined ; for if all is to be only 
 contemplative with reference to the coming of Christ, 
 then this theme has already been more grandly and 
 
CHURCH MUSIC. 
 
 63 
 
 beautifully treated in Handel’s Messiah,” where he 
 begins with Isaiah, and, taking the Birth as a central 
 point, closes with the Kesurrection. 
 
 When you, however, say our poor Church,” I must 
 teU you what is very strange ; I have found, to my 
 astonishment, that the Catholics, who have had music 
 in their churches for several centuries, and sing a musi- 
 cal Mass every Sunday if possible, in their principal 
 churches, do not to this day possess one which can be 
 considered even tolerably good, or in fact which is not 
 actually distasteM and operatic. This is the case from 
 Pergolese and Durante, who introduce the most laugh- 
 able little trills into their “ Gloria,” down to the opera 
 finales of the present day. Were I a Catholic, I would 
 set to work at a Mass this very evening ; and, what- 
 ever it might turn out, it would at all events be the 
 only Mass written with a constant remembrance of its 
 sacred purpose. But for the present I don’t mean to 
 do this ; perhaps at some future day, when I am older. 
 
 To Herr Conrad Schleinitz, Leipzig. 
 
 Dusseldorf, January 26th, 1835. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Pray receive my thanks for your kind letter, and the 
 friendly disposition which it evinces towards myself 
 You may well imagine that it would be a source of in- 
 finite pleasure to me to find in your city the extensive 
 sphere of action you describe, as my sole wish is to 
 advance the cause of music on that path which I con- 
 
64 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letthhs. 
 
 sider the right one ; I would therefore gladly comply 
 with a summons which furnished me with the means 
 of doing so. I should not hke, however, by such ac- 
 ceptance to injure any one, and I do not wish, by as- 
 suming this office, to be the cause of supplanting my 
 predecessor. In the first place, I consider this to be 
 wrong; and, moreover, great harm ensues to music 
 from such contentions. Before, then, giving a decided 
 answer to your proposal, I must beg you to solve some 
 doubts : — namely, at whose disposal is the appointment 
 you describe ? with whom should I be in connection, — 
 with a society, or individuals, or a Board ? and should 
 I by my acceptance injure any other musician? I 
 hope you will answer this last question with perfect 
 candour, imagining yourself in my place ; for, as I pre- 
 viously said, I have no wish to deprive any one, either 
 directly or indirectly, of his situation. 
 
 Further, it is not quite clear to me, from your letter, 
 how the direction of an academy for singing can be 
 combined with my six months’ summer vacation ; for 
 you must be well aware how indispensable continual 
 supervision is to such an institution, and that anything 
 which can be accomplished in one half-year may be 
 easily forgotten in the next ; or is there another direc- 
 tor for the purpose of undertaking the duties instead 
 of me ? Finally, I must also confess that, in a pecu- 
 niary point of view, I do not wish to accept any posi- 
 tion that would be less profitable than my present one ; 
 but, as you mention a benefit concert, no doubt this is 
 a matter that might be satisfactorily arranged, and we 
 should have no difficulty in coming to an agreement on 
 this point. 
 
MUSTOAL COMPETITION. 
 
 65 
 
 I have been quite candid with you, and hope, in any 
 event, you will not take it amiss ; be so good as to 
 oblige me by sending an answer as soon as possible, 
 and to believe that I shall ever be grateful to you for 
 your kind letter, as well as for the honour you have 
 done me. 
 
 To Capellmeister Spohr, Cassel. 
 
 Diisseldorf, March 8th, 1835, 
 
 Eespected Capellmeister, 
 
 I thank you much for your friendly communication. 
 The intelligence from Vienna was most interesting to 
 me; I had heard nothing of it. It strongly revived 
 my feeling as to the utter impossibility of my ever 
 composing anything with a view to competing for a 
 prize. I should never be able to make even a begin- 
 ning ; and if I were obliged to undergo an examina- 
 tion as a musician, I am convinced that I should be at 
 once sent back, for I should not have done half as well 
 as I could. The thoughts of a prize, or an award, 
 would distract my thoughts ; and yet I cannot rise so 
 superior to this feeling as entirely to forget it. But if 
 you find that you are in a mood for such a thing, you 
 should not fail to compose a symphony by that time, 
 and to send it, for I know no man living who could 
 dispute the prize with you (this is the second reason), 
 and then we should get another symphony of yours 
 (first reason). With regard to the members of the 
 Judicial Committee in Vienna, I have my own thoughts, 
 which, however, are not very legitimate, but, on the 
 6 * 
 
66 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 contrary, somewhat rebellious. Were I one of the 
 judges, not a single member of the Comite should ob- 
 tain a prize, if they competed for one. 
 
 You wish me to write to you on the subject of my 
 works, and I cordially thank you for asking about them. 
 I began an oratorio about a year ago, which I expect to 
 finish next month, the subject of which is St. Paul. 
 Some friends have compiled the words for me from the 
 Bible, and I think that both the subject and the compi- 
 lation are well adapted to music, and very solemn, — if 
 the music only prove as good as I wish ; at all events, 
 I have enjoyed the most intense delight while engaged 
 in writing it. I also composed some time since, a new 
 overture to the “ Lovely Melusina.” and have another 
 in my head at this moment. How gladly would I 
 write an opera ! but far and near I can find no libretto 
 and no poet. Those who have the genius of poetry 
 cannot bear music, or know nothing of the theatre ; 
 others are neither acquainted with poetry nor with man- 
 kind, only with the boards, and lamps, and side scenes, 
 and canvas. So I never succeed in finding the opera 
 which I have so eagerly, yet vainly striven to procure. 
 Each day I regret this more ; but I hope at last to meet 
 with the man I wish for this purpose. I have also 
 written a good deal of instrumental music of late, 
 chiefly for the piano, but others besides ; perhaps you 
 will permit me to send you some of these as soon as I 
 have an opportunity to do so. I am, with the highest 
 esteem and consideration, your devoted 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
FIGURED CHORALES. 
 
 67 
 
 To Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, 
 
 FROM his Father.* 
 
 Berlin, March lOtb, 1835. 
 
 This is the third letter I have written to you this 
 week, and, if this goes on, reading my letters will be- 
 come a standing article in the distribution of the budget 
 of your time ; but you must blame yourself for this, 
 as you spoil me by your praise. I at once pass to the 
 musical portion of your last letter. 
 
 Your aphorism, that every room in which Sebastian 
 Bach is sung is transformed into a church, I consider 
 peculiarly appropriate ; and when I once heard the last 
 movement of the piece in question, it made a similar 
 impression on myself ; but I own I cannot overcome 
 my dishke to figured chorales in general, because I can- 
 not understand the fundamental idea on which they are 
 based, especially where the contending parts are main- 
 tained in an equal balance of power. For example, in 
 the first chorus of the ‘^Passion,” — where the chorale 
 forms only a more important and consistent part of the 
 basis ; or where, as in the above-mentioned movement 
 of the cantata (if I remember it rightly, having only 
 heard it once), the chorale represents the principal 
 building, and the individual parts only the decorations, 
 — I can better comprehend the purpose and the concep- 
 tion ; but not so certainly where the figure, in a certain 
 
 * The following letter from Mehdelssohn’s father will certainly not 
 be read without interest, as it throws so clear a light on the intellectual 
 relations between father and son ; a place may therefore be appropri- 
 ately found for it here. It has been selected from a large collection of 
 letters of a similar tendency. 
 
68 
 
 MENDELSSOHNS LETTERS. 
 
 manner, carries out variations on the theme. ITo 
 liberties ought ever assuredly to be taken with a cho- 
 rale. Its highest purpose is, that the congregation 
 should sing it in all its purity to the accompaniment of 
 the organ ; all else seems to me idle and inappropriate 
 for a church. 
 
 At Fanny’s last morning’s music the motett of Bach, 
 “ Grottes Zeit ist die allerbeste Zeit,” and your Ave 
 Maria,” were sung by select voices. A long passage in 
 the middle of the latter, as well as the .end also, appear- 
 ed to me too learned and intricate to accord with the 
 simple piety, and certainly genuine catholic spirit, 
 which pervades the rest of the music. . Eebecca re- 
 marked that there was some confusion in the execution 
 of those very passages which I considered too intricate ; 
 but this only proves that I am an ignoramus, but not 
 that the conclusion is not too abstrusely modulated. 
 With regard to Bach, the compodtion in question 
 seems to me worthy of the highest admiration. It is 
 long since I have been so struck or surprised by any- 
 thing as by the Introduction, which Fanny played most 
 beautifully ; and I could not help thinking of Bach’s 
 solitary position, of his isolated condition with regard to 
 his associates and his contemporaries, of his pure, mild, 
 and vast power, and the transparency of its depths. 
 The particular pieces which at the time were for ever 
 engraved on my memory were “ Bestelle dein Haus,” 
 and “ Es ist der alte Bund.” I cared less for the bass 
 air, or the alt solos. What first, through his “ Passion,” 
 seemed quite clear to me — that Bach is the musical type 
 of Protestantism — becomes either negatively or posh 
 tively more apparent to me every time that I hear a 
 
LETTER FROM HIS FATHER. 
 
 69 
 
 new piece of his ; and thus it was recently with a Mass 
 that I heard in the Academy, and which I consider 
 most decidedly anti-Catholic ; and, consequently, even 
 all its great beauties seemed as unable to reconcile the 
 inward contradiction, as if I were to hear a Protestant 
 clergyman performing Mass in a Protestant Church. 
 Moreover, I felt more strongly than ever what a great 
 merit it was on Zelter’s part to restore Bach to the 
 Germans j for, between Porkel’s day and his, very little 
 was ever said about Bach, and even then principally 
 with regard to his “ wohltemperirte Clavier.” He was 
 the first person on whom the light of Bach clearly 
 dawned, through the acquisition of his other works, 
 with which, as a collector of music, he became acquaint- 
 ed, and, as a genuine artist, imparted this knowledge to 
 others. His musical performances on Fridays were 
 indeed a proof that no work begun in earnest, and 
 followed up with quiet perseverance, can fail ultimately 
 to command success. At all events, it is an undoubted 
 fact, that without Zelter, your own musical tendencies 
 would have been of a totally different nature. 
 
 Your intention to restore Handel in his original 
 form has led me to some reflections on his later style 
 of instrumentation. A question is not unfrequently 
 raised as to whether Handel, if he wrote in our day, 
 would make use of all the existing musical facilities in 
 composing his oratorios, — which, in fact, only means 
 whether the wonted artistic form to which we give 
 the name of Handel would assume the same shape now 
 that it did a hundred years ago ; and the answer to this 
 presents itself at once. The question, however, ought 
 to be put in a different form, — not whether Handel 
 
70 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 would compose liis oratorios now as lie did a century 
 since, but, rather, whether he would compose any ora- 
 torios whatever; hardly — if they must be written in 
 the style of those of the present day. 
 
 From my saying this to you, you may gather with 
 what eager anticipations and confidence I look forward 
 to your oratorio, which will, .1 trust, solve the problem 
 of combining ancient conceptions with modern appli- 
 ances; otherwise the result would be as great a failure 
 as that of the painters of the nineteenth century, who 
 only make themselves ridiculous by attempting to re- 
 vive the religious elements of the fifteenth, with its 
 long arms and legs and topsy-turvy perspective. These 
 new resources seem to me, like everything else in the 
 world, to have been developed just at the right time in 
 order to animate the inner impulses which were daily 
 becoming more feeble. On the heights of religious 
 feeling on which Bach, Handel, and their contempora- 
 ries stood, they required no numerous orchestras for 
 their oratorios ; and I can remember perfectly in my 
 earliest years the “ Messiah,” “ Judas,” and Alex- 
 ander’s Feast” being given exactly as Handel wrote 
 them, without even an organ, and yet to the delight 
 and edification of every one. 
 
 But how is this to be managed nowadays, when 
 vacuity of thought and noise in music are gradually 
 being developed in inverse relation to each other? 
 The orchestra, however, is now established, and is 
 likely long to maintain its present form without any 
 essential modification. Riches are only a fault when 
 we do not know how to spend them. How, then, is 
 the wealth of the orchestra to be applied ? What 
 
LETTER FROM mS FATHER. 
 
 71 
 
 guidance can the poet give for this, and to what re- 
 gions ? or is music to be entirely severed from poetry, 
 and work its own independent way ? I do not believe 
 it can accomplish the latter, at least, only to a very 
 limited extent, and not available for the world at large ; 
 to effect the former, an object must be found for music 
 as well as for painting, which, by its fervour, its 
 universal sufficiency and perspicuity, may supply the 
 place of the pious emotions of former days. It seems 
 to me that both the oratorios of Haydn were, in their 
 sphere, also very remarkable phenomena. The poems 
 of both are weak, regarded as poetry; but they have 
 replaced the old positive and almost metaphysical re- 
 ligious impulses, by those which nature, as a visible 
 emanation from the Grodhead, in her universality, and 
 her thousandfold individualities, instils into every sus- 
 ceptible heart. Hence the profound depth, but also 
 the cheerful efficiency, and certainly genuine religious 
 influence of these two works, which hitherto stand 
 alone ; hence the combined effect of the playful and 
 detached passages, with the most noble and sincere 
 feelings of gratitude produced by the whole ; hence is 
 it, also, that I individually could as little endure to 
 lose in the Creation” and in the “ Seasons” the crow- 
 ing of the cock, the singing of the lark, the lowing of 
 the cattle, and the rustic glee of the peasants, as I 
 could in nature herself; in other words, the “ Creation” 
 and the “ Seasons” are founded on nature and the 
 visible service of G-od; and are no new materials for 
 music to be found there ? 
 
 The publication of Goethe’s Correspondence with a 
 Child” I consider a most provoking and perniciou^i 
 
72 
 
 MENDELSSOHNS LETTERS. 
 
 abuse of the press, through which, more and more ra- 
 pidly, all illusions will be destroyed, without which life 
 is only death. You, I trust, will never lose your illu- 
 sions, and ever preserve your filial attachment to your 
 father. 
 
 To HIS Father. 
 
 Diisseldorf, March 23d, 1835. 
 
 Dear Father, 
 
 I have still to thank you for your last letter and my 
 “ Ave.” I often cannot understand how it is possible 
 to have so acute a judgment with regard to music, 
 without being yourself technically musical ; and if I 
 could express what I assuredly feel, with as much clear- 
 ness and intuitive perception as you do, as soon as you 
 enter on the subject, I never would make another ob- 
 scure speech all my life long. I thank you a thousand 
 times for this, and also for your opinion of Bach. I 
 ought to feel rather provoked that after only one very 
 imperfect hearing of my composition you at once dis- 
 covered what, after long familiarity on my part, I have 
 only just found out ; but then, again, it pleases me to 
 see your definite sense of music, for the deficiencies in 
 the middle movement and at the end consist of such 
 minute faults, which might have been remedied by a 
 very few notes (I mean struck out), that neither I nor 
 any other musician would have been aware of them 
 without repeatedly hearing the piece, because we in fact 
 seek the cause much deeper. They injure the simpli- 
 
OPINION OF BACHES MUSIC. 
 
 73 
 
 city of the harmony, which at the beginning pleases 
 me; and though it is my opinion that these faults 
 would be less perceptible if properly executed, that is, 
 with a numerous choir, still some traces of them will 
 always remain. Another time I shall endeavor to do 
 better. I should like you, however, to hear the Bach 
 again, because there is a part of it which you care less 
 for, but which pleases me best of all. I allude to the 
 alto and bass airs ; only the chorale must be given by 
 a number of alto voices, and the bass very well sung. 
 However fine the airs Bestelle dein Haus” and “ Es 
 ist der alte Bund” may be, still there is something very 
 sublime and profound in the plan of the ensuing move- 
 ments, in the mode in which the alto begins, the bass 
 then interposing with freshness and spirit, and con- 
 tinuing the same words while the chorale comes in as a 
 third, the bass closing exultantly, but the chorale not 
 till long afterwards, dying away softly and solemnly. 
 There is one peculiarity of this music, — its date must 
 be placed either very early or very late, for it entirely 
 differs from his usual style of writing in middle age, — 
 the first choral movements and the final chorus being 
 of a kind that I should never have attributed to Sebas- 
 tian Bach, but to some other composer of his day; 
 while no other man in the world could have written a 
 single bar of the middle movements. 
 
 My mother does not judge Hiller rightly, for, in spite 
 of his pleasures and honours in Paris, and the neglect 
 he met with in Frankfort, he writes to me that he 
 envies me my position here on the Ehine, even witli 
 all its drawbacks ; and as, no doubt, a similar one may 
 still be met with in Germany, I do not give up tlio 
 7 
 
74 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 hope of prevailing on him to forsake the Parisian atmo- 
 sphere of pleasures and honours and return to his 
 studio. Now farewell, dear Father. I beg you will 
 soon let me hear from you again.— Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To HIS Father. 
 
 Diisseldorf, April 3d, 1836. 
 
 Dear Father, 
 
 I am delighted to hear that you are satisfied with 
 the programme of the Cologne Musical Festival. I 
 shall not be able to play the organ for Solomon,” as it 
 must stand in the background of the orchestra and 
 accompany almost every piece, the choruses and other 
 performers here being accustomed to constant beating 
 of time. I must therefore transcribe the whole of the 
 organ part in the manner in which I think it ought to 
 be played, and the cathedral organist there, Weber, 
 will play it ; I am told he is a sound musician and first- 
 rate player. This is all so far well, and only gives me 
 the great labour of transcribing, as I wish to have the 
 performance as perfect as possible. I have had a good 
 deal of trouble, too, with the Morgengesang,”* as 
 there is much in it that requires alteration, owing to 
 the impossibility of executing it as written, with the 
 means we have here. In doing so, however, it again 
 caused me extreme pleasure, especially the stars, the 
 moon, the elements, and the whole of the admirable 
 
 * By Reichardt. Compare the passage in reference to Reichardt in 
 the letter of December 28lh, 1833. 
 
COLOGNE MUSICAL FESTIVAL. 
 
 75 
 
 fiiiale. At the words “und schlich in dieser ISTacht,” 
 etc., it becomes so romantic and poetical, that each 
 time I hear it I feel more touched and charmed ; it 
 tlierefore gratifies me to be of any use to so noble a 
 man. The Comite were very much surprised when I 
 maintained that it was a fine composition, and scarcely 
 would consent to have it; but at that moment they 
 were in a mood to be persuaded to anything. I would 
 also have insisted on their giving an overture of Bach’s, 
 if I had not dreaded too strong a counter-revolution. 
 There is to be nothing of mine ; therefore (from grati- 
 tude, I presume) they persist that my “ admirable like- 
 ness” shall appear and be published by Whitsunday, a 
 project from which I gallantly defend myself, refusing 
 either to sit or stand for the purpose, having a particu- 
 lar objection to such pretensions. 
 
 You must be well aware that your presence at the 
 festival would not only be no gene to me, but, on the 
 contrary, would cause me first to feel true joy and 
 delight in my success. Allow me to take this oppor- 
 tunity to say to you that the approbation and enjoy- 
 ment of the public, to which I am certainly very sen- 
 sible, only causes me real satisfaction when I can write 
 to tell you of it, because I know it rejoices you, and 
 one word of praise from you is more truly precious to 
 me, and makes me happier, than all the publics in the 
 world applauding me in concert ; and thus to see you 
 among the audience, would be the dearest of all rewards 
 to me for my labours. 
 
 My oratorio* is to be performed in Frankfort in 
 
 * “St. PauL” 
 
76 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 NoTember, so Schelble writes to me ; and much as 1 
 should like you to hear it soon, still I should prefer 
 your hearing it first next year, at the Musical Festival. 
 Before decidedly accepting the proposal, I have stipu- 
 lated to wait till after the performance at Frankfort, 
 that I may judge whether it be suitable for the festival ; 
 but should this prove to be the case, as I hope and 
 wish it may, it will have a much finer efiect there ; 
 and, besides, it is the festival that you like, and Whit- 
 sunday instead of November ; and, above all, I shall 
 then know whether it pleases you or not, on which 
 point I feel by no means sure. 
 
 I cannot close this letter without speaking of the hea- 
 venly weather that delights us here. Light balmy air 
 and sunshine, and a profusion of green, and larks I To- 
 day I rode through the forest, and stopped for at least 
 a quarter of an hour to listen to the birds, who in the 
 deep solitude were fluttering about incessantly and 
 warbling. — Y our 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Herr Conrad Schleinitz, Leipzig. 
 
 Dusseldort April 16th, 1835. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 I thank you cordially for your last letter, and for 
 the fi:iendly interest which you take in me, and in my 
 coming to Leipzig. As I perceive by the Herr Stadt- 
 rath Porsche’s letter, as well as by that of the Superin- 
 tendent of the concerts, that my going there does not 
 mterfere with any other person, one great difficulty is 
 
MUSIC DIRECTORSHIP AT LEIPZIG. 
 
 77 
 
 thus obviated. But another has now arisen, as the 
 letter of the Superintendent contains different views 
 with regard to the situation from yours. The direction 
 of twenty concerts and extra concerts is named as 
 among the duties, but a benefit concert (about which 
 you wrote to me) is not mentioned. I have con- 
 sequently said in my reply what I formerly wrote to 
 you, that, in order to induce me to consent to the ex- 
 change, I wish to see the same pecuniary advantages 
 secured to me that I enjoy here. If a benefit concert, 
 as you say, would bring from two hundred to three 
 hundred dollars, this sum would certainly be a con- 
 siderable increase to my salary ; but I must say that I 
 never made such a proposal, and indeed would not 
 have accepted it had it been made to me. It would be 
 a different thing if the association chose to give an ad- 
 ditional concert, and to devote a share of the profits 
 towards the increase of my established salary. During 
 my musical career, I have always resolved never to 
 give a concert for myself (for my own benefit). You 
 probably are aware that, personally, pecuniary con- 
 siderations would be of less importance to me, were it 
 not that my parents (and I think rightly) exact from 
 me that I should follow my art as a profession and gain 
 my livelihood by means of it. I, however, reserved 
 the power of declining certain things which, in reference 
 to my favoured position in this respect, I will nevei 
 do; for example, giving concerts or lessons. But I 
 quite acknowledge the propriety of what my parents 
 insist on so strongly, that in all other relations I shall 
 gladly consider myself as a musician who lives by his 
 profession. Thus, before giving up my present situation. 
 
78 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 I must ascertain that one equally advantageous is se- 
 cured to me. I do not consider that v^hat I require is 
 at all presumptuous, as it has been offered to me here, 
 and on this account I trust that a similar course may 
 be pursued in Leipzig. An association was at that 
 time formed here, who intrusted to me the duty of 
 conducting the Vocal Association, concerts, etc., and 
 made up my salary partly in common with the Vocal 
 Association and partly by the profits of the concerts. 
 Whether anything of this kind be possible with you, 
 or whether it could be equalized by an additional con- 
 cert, or whether the execution of particular duties is to 
 be imposed on me, I cannot, of course, pretend to de- 
 cide. I only wish that, in one way or another, a de- 
 finite position should be assured to me, like the one I 
 enjoy here ; and if your idea about the benefit concert 
 could be modified and carried out, there would then be 
 a good hope for me that the affair might turn out ac- 
 cording to my wish. 
 
 If you can induce the directors to fulfil the wishes I 
 have expressed, you will exceedingly oblige me, for 
 you know how welcome a residence and active em- 
 ployment in your city would be to me. In any event, 
 continue your friendly feehngs towards me, and accept 
 my thanks for them. 
 
ON HAVING HIS PORTRAIT TAKEN. 
 
 79 
 
 To THE Herr Regierungs-Seoretair Hixte, Cologne. 
 
 Diisseldorf, May 18 th, 1835. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 I thank you much for the kind letter you have grati- 
 fied me by addressing to me. The idea which you 
 communicate in it is very flattering for me, and yet I 
 confess that I feel a certain degree of dislike to what 
 you propose, and for a long time past I have entertain- 
 ed this feeling. It is now so very much the fashion 
 for obscure or commonplace people to have their like- 
 ness given to the public, in order to become more 
 known, and for young beginners to do so at first start- 
 ing in fife, that I have always had a dread of doing so 
 too soon. I do not wish that my likeness should be 
 taken until I have accomphshed something to render 
 me more worthy, according to my idea, of such an 
 honour. This, however, not being yet the 'case, I beg 
 to defer such a compliment till I am more deserving of 
 it ; but receive my best thanks for the friendly good- 
 nature with which you made me this oJTer.* — I am, etc., 
 Felix Mendelssohn Barthold y. 
 
 To HIS Family. 
 
 Leipzig, October 6th, 1835. 
 
 For a week past I have been seeking for a leisure 
 hour to answer, and to thank you for, the charming let- 
 
 ♦ Compare the passage on this subject in the letter of April 3d, 1885. 
 
80 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 ters I have received from you ; but the London days, 
 with their distractions, were not worse than the time 
 has been since Fanny left this till now. At length, 
 after the successful result of the first concert, I have at 
 last a certain degree of rest. 
 
 The day after I accompanied the Hensels to Delitsch 
 Chopin came ; he intended only to remain one day, so 
 we spent this entirely together in music. I cannot 
 deny, dear Fanny, that I have lately found that you by 
 no means do him justice in your judgment of his ta- 
 lents; perhaps he was not in a humour for playing 
 when you heard him, which may not unfrequently be 
 the case with him. But his playing has enchanted me 
 afresh, and I am persuaded that if you, and my Father 
 also, had heard some of his better pieces, as he played 
 them to me, you would say the same. There is some- 
 thing thoroughly original in his pianoforte playing, and 
 at the same time so masterly, that he may be called a 
 most perfect virtuoso ; and as every style of perfection 
 is welcome and acceptable, that day was most agree- 
 able to me, although so entirely different from the pre- 
 vious ones with you, — the Hensels. 
 
 It was so pleasant for me to be once more with a 
 thorough musician, and not with those half virtuosos 
 and half classics, who would gladly combine les Tion- 
 neurs de la vertu ef les plaisirs du vice^ but with one 
 who has his perfect and well-defined phase ; and how- 
 ever far asunder we may be in our different spheres, 
 still I can get on famously with suqh a person ; but not 
 with those half-and-half people. Sunday evening was 
 really very remarkable when Chopin made me play 
 over my oratorio to him, while curious Leipzigers stole 
 
M. CHOPIN. 
 
 81 
 
 into the room to see him, and when between the first 
 and second part he dashed into his new Etudes and a 
 new concerto, to the amazement of the Leipzigers, and 
 then I resumed my ^^St. Paul;” it was just as if a 
 Cherokee and a Kaffir had met to converse. He has 
 also such a lovely new notturno^ a considerable part of 
 which I learnt by ear for the purpose of playing it for 
 Paul’s amusement. So we got on most pleasantly 
 together; and he promised faitlifully to return in the 
 course of the winter, when I intend to compose a new 
 symphony, and to perform it in honour of him. We 
 vowed these things in the presence of three witnesses, 
 and we shah, see whether we both adhere to our word. 
 My collection of Handel’s works arrived before Chopin’s 
 departure, and were a source of quite childish delight 
 to him ; they really are so beautiful that I am charmed 
 with them; thirty- two great folios, bound in thick green 
 leather, in the regular nice English fashion, and on the 
 back, in big gold letters, the title and contents of each 
 volume ; and in the first volume, besides, there are the 
 following words, “ To Director P. M. B., from the 
 Committee of the Cologne Musical Festival, 1835.” 
 The books were accompanied by a very civil letter, 
 with the signatures of all the Committee, and on taking 
 up one of the volumes at random it happened to be 
 “ Samson,” and just at the very beginning I found a 
 grand aria for Samson which is quite unknown, because 
 Herr von Mosel struck it out, and which yields in 
 beauty to none of Handels ; so you see what pleasure 
 is in store for me in all the thirty- two volumes. You 
 may imagine my dehght. Before setting ofi* on his 
 journey, Moscheles came to see me, and during the first 
 
82 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 half-hour he played over my second book of “ songs 
 without words” to my extreme pleasure. He is not 
 the least changed, only somewhat older in appearance, 
 but otherwise as fresh and in as good spirits as ever, 
 and playing quite splendidly, — another kind of perfect 
 virtuoso and master combined. The rehearsals of the 
 first subscription gradually drew near, and the day 
 before yesterday my Leipzig music-directorship com- 
 menced. I cannot tell you how much I am satisfied 
 with this beginning, and with the whole aspect of my 
 position here. It is a quiet, regular, official business. 
 That the Institute has been established for fifty-six 
 years is very perceptible, and moreover the people 
 seem most friendly and well-disposed towards me and 
 my music. The orchestra is very good, and thoroughly 
 musical ; and I think that six months hence it will be 
 much improved, for the sympathy and attention with 
 which these people receive my suggestions, and instantly 
 adopt them, were really touching in both the rehearsals 
 we have hitherto had ; there was as great a difference 
 as if another orchestra had been playing. There are 
 still some deficiencies in the orchestra, but these will be 
 supplied by degrees ; and I look forward to a succession 
 of pleasant evenings and good performances. I wish 
 you had heard the introduction to my “ Meeresstille” 
 (for the concert began with that) ; there was such pro- 
 found silence in the hah and in the orchestra, that the 
 most delicate notes could be distinctly heard, and they 
 played the adagio from first to last in the most masterly 
 manner; the allegro not quite so well, for, being ac- 
 customed to a slower tempo ^ they rather dragged ; but 
 at the end, where the slow time begins, they went 
 
CONCERT AT LEIPZIG. 
 
 83 
 
 capitally, the violins attacking it with a degree of 
 vehemence that quite startled me and delighted the 
 publicus. The following pieces, an air in E major of 
 Weber, a violin concerto by Spohr, and the introduction 
 to “ Ali Baba,” did not go so well; the one rehearsal 
 was not sufficient, and they were often unsteady ; but, 
 on the other hand, Beethoven’s B flat symphony, which 
 formed the second part, was splendidly given, so that 
 the Leipzigers shouted with delight at the close of each 
 movement. I never in any orchestra saw such zeal and 
 excitement ; they listened like — popinjays, Zelter would 
 say. 
 
 After the concert I received, and offered in turn, a 
 mass of congratulations : first the orchestra, then the 
 Thomas School collegians (who are capital fellows, and 
 always join in, so punctually and vigorously, that I 
 have promised them a medal) ; then came Moscheles, 
 with a Court suite of dilettanti^ then two editors of musi- 
 cal papers, and so on. Moscheles’ concert is on Friday, 
 and I am to play his piece for two pianos* with him, 
 and he is to play my new pianoforte-concerto. My 
 “ Hebrides” have also contrived to creep into the con- 
 cert. This afternoon Moscheles, Clara Wieck, and I, 
 play Sebastian Bach’s triple concerto in D minor. How 
 amiable Moscheles is towards myself, how cordially he 
 is interested in my situation here, how it delights me 
 that he is so satisfied with it, how he plays my rondo 
 in E flat to my great admiration, and far better than I 
 originally conceived it, and how we dine together 
 every forenoon in his hotel, and every evening drink 
 
 * “ Hommage h Handel.’ 
 
84 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 tea and have music in mine, — all this you can imagine 
 for yourself, for you know him, — especially you, dear 
 father. These are pleasant days ; and if I have not 
 much leisure to work, I mean to make up for it here- 
 after, and shall derive as much benefit from it then as 
 now. 
 
 My first concert caused me no perturbation, dear 
 Mother, but to my shame I confess that I never felt so 
 embarrassed at the moment of appearing as on that oc- 
 casion ; I believe it arose from our long correspondence 
 and treaty on the subject, and I had never before seen 
 a concert of the kind. The locality and the lights con- 
 fused me. Now farewell all. May you be well and 
 happy, and pray write to me very often. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Pastor Julius Schubring, Dessau. 
 
 Leipzig, December 6th .1835. 
 
 Dear Schubring, 
 
 You have no doubt heard of the heavy stroke that 
 has fallen on my happy life and those dear to me.* It 
 is the greatest misfortune that could have befallen me, 
 and a trial that I must either strive to bear up against, 
 or must utterly sink under. I say this to myself after 
 the lapse of three weeks, without the acute anguish of 
 the first days, but I now feel it even more deeply ; a new 
 life must now begin for me, or all must be at an end : 
 the old life is now severed. For our consolation and ex- 
 ample, our mother bears her loss with the most wonder- 
 
 * The death of his father. 
 
DEATH OF HIS FATHER. 
 
 85 
 
 ful composure and firmness ; she comforts herself with 
 her children and grandchildren, and thus strives to hide 
 the chasm that never can be filled up. My brother and 
 sisters do what they can to fulfil their duties better than 
 ever, the more difficult they have become. I was ten 
 days in Berlin, that by my presence my mother should 
 at least be surrounded by her whole family ; but I need 
 scarcely tell you what these days were ; you know it 
 well, and no doubt you thought of me in that dark hour. 
 Grod granted to my father the prayer that he had often 
 uttered ; his end was as peaceful and quiet and as sudden 
 and unexpected as he desired. On Wednesday, the 18th, 
 he was surrounded by all his family, went to bed late 
 the same evening, complained a little early on Thursday, 
 and at hall-past eleven his life was ended. The physi- 
 cians can give his malady no name. It seems that my 
 grandfather Moses died in a similar manner, — so my un- 
 cle told us, — at the same age, without sickness, and in a 
 calm and cheerful frame of mind. I do not know whether 
 you are aware that more especially for some years past 
 my father was so good to me, so thoroughly my friend, 
 that I was devoted to him with my whole soul, and du- 
 ring my long absence I scarcely ever passed an hour 
 without thinking of him ; but as you knew him in his 
 dwn home with us, in all his kindliness, you can well 
 realize my state of mind. The only thing that now 
 -remains is to do one’s duty, and this I strive to ac- 
 complish with all my strength, for he would wish it to 
 be so if he were still present, and I shall never cease to 
 endeavour to gain his approval as I formerly did, though 
 I can no longer enjoy it. When I delayed answering 
 your letter, I little thought I should have to answer it 
 8 
 
86 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 thus ; let me thank you for it now, and for all your 
 kindness. One passage for “ St. Paul” was excellent, 
 “ der Du der rechte Yater hist.” I have a chorus in my 
 head for it which I intend shortly to write down. I 
 shall now work with double zeal at the completion of 
 “ St. Paul,” for my father urged me to it in the very 
 last letter he wrote to me, and he looked forward very 
 impatiently to the completion of my work. I feel as if 
 I must exert all my energies to finish it, and make it as 
 good as possible, and then think that he takes an inte- 
 rest in it. If any good passages occur to you, pray send 
 them to me, for you know the intention of the whole. 
 To-day, for the first time, I have begun once more to 
 work at it, and intend now to do so daily. When it is 
 concluded, what is to come next, God will direct. 
 Farewell, dear Schubring : bear me in your thoughts. 
 — Your 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To Pastor Bauer, Beszig. 
 
 Leipsig, December 9th, 1835. 
 
 I received your kind letter here, on the very day 
 when the christening in your family was to take place, 
 on my return from Berlin, where I had gone in the 
 hope of alleviating my mother’s grief, immediately after 
 the loss of my father. So I received the intelligence of 
 your happiness, on again crossing the threshold of my 
 empty room, when I felt for the first time in my inmost 
 beir g what it is to suffer the most painful and bitter 
 
INVITATION TO A CHRISTENING. 
 
 87 
 
 anguish. Indeed, the wish which of all others every 
 night recurred to my mind, was that I might not sur- 
 vive my loss, because I so entirely clung to my father, 
 or rather stiU cHng to him, that I do not know how I 
 can now pass my life, for not only have I to deplore the 
 loss of a father (a sorrow which of all others from my 
 childhood I always thought the most acute), but also 
 that of my best and most perfect friend during the last 
 few years, and my instructor in art and in life. 
 
 It seemed to me so strange, reading your letter, 
 which breathed only joy and satisfaction, calling on me 
 to rejoice with you on your future prospects, at the mo- 
 ment when I felt that my past was lost and gone for 
 ever ; but I thank you for wishing me, though so dis- 
 tant, to become your guest at the christening; and 
 though my name may make a graver impression now 
 than you probably thought, I trust that impression vAll 
 only be a grave, and not a painful, one, to you and your 
 wife ; and when, in later years, you tell your child of 
 those whom you invited to his baptism, do not omit my 
 name from your guests, but say to him that one of them 
 on that day recommenced his life afresh, — though in 
 another sense, with new purposes and wishes, and with 
 new prayers to Grod. 
 
 My mother is well, and bears her sorrow with such 
 composure and dignity that we can all only wonder and 
 admire, and ascribe it to her love for her children and 
 her wish for their happiness. As for myself, when I 
 tell you that I strive to do my duty and thus to win 
 my father’s approval now as I always formerly did, and 
 devote to the completion of “St. Paul,” in which he 
 took such pleasure, all the energies of my mind, to 
 
88 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 make it as good as I possibly can, — when I say that I 
 force myself to the performance of my duties here, not 
 to pass quite unprofitably these first days of sorrow, 
 when to be perfectly idle is most consonant to one’s 
 feelings,— ^that, lastly, the people here are most kind 
 and sympathizing, and endeavor to make life as little 
 painful to me as they can, — you know the aspect of 
 my inner and outer life at this moment. Farewell. 
 
 To Ferdinand Hiller. 
 
 Leipdg, January 24th. 1836. 
 
 My dear Ferdinand, 
 
 I now send you my promised report of the perform- 
 ance of your D minor overture, which took place last 
 Thursday evening. It was well executed by the or- 
 chestra; we had studied it repeatedly and carefully, 
 and a great many of the passages sounded so well as 
 to exceed my expectations. The most beautiful of all 
 was the first passage in A minor, piano ^ given by wind 
 instruments, followed by the melody, — which had an 
 admirable effect ; and also at the beginning of the free 
 fantasia, the forte in Gr minor, and then IYiq piano (youi 
 favourite passage), likewise the trombones and wind 
 instruments, piano^ at the end in D major. The Finale, 
 too, exceeded my expectations in the orchestra. But, 
 trusting to our good understanding, I could not resist 
 striking out, after the first rehearsal, the staccato double- 
 basses in the melody in A major, and each time the 
 passage recurred in F and D major, replacing them by 
 
CRITICISM ON Hiller’s music. 
 
 89 
 
 sustained notes ; you can’t think how confused the 
 effect was, and therefore I hope you will not take this 
 liberty amiss. I am convinced you would have done 
 the same ; it did not sound as you would have liked. 
 
 I have something else, too, on my conscience that I 
 must tell you. The Overture neither excited myself 
 nor the musicians during its performance as I could 
 have wished ; it left us rather cold. This would have 
 been of little consequence, but it was remarkable that 
 all the musicians to whom I spoke said the same. The 
 first theme and all the begiuning, the melodies in A 
 minor and A major, particularly delighted them ; and 
 up to that point they had all felt enthusiastic ; but then 
 their sympathy gradually subsided, till, when the close 
 came, they had quite forgotten the striking impression 
 of the theme, and no longer felt any interest in the 
 music. This seems to me important, for I think it is 
 connected with the difference which we have so re- 
 peatedly discussed together, and the want of interest 
 with which you at all times regard your art, being now 
 at length become perceptible to others. I would not 
 say this to you, were it not that I am perfectly con- 
 vinced of this being a point which must be left to each 
 individual^ as neither nature nor talents, even of the 
 highest order, can remedy it ; a man’s own will alone 
 can do so. Nothing is more repugnant to me than 
 casting blame on the nature or genius of any one ; it 
 only renders him irritable and bewildered, and does no 
 good. No man can add one inch to his stature : in 
 such a case all striving and toiling is vain, therefore it 
 is best to be silent. Providence is answerable for this 
 defect in his nature. But if it be the case, as it is with 
 
90 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 this work of yours, that precisely those very themes, 
 and all that requires talent or genius (call it as you 
 will), is excellent and beautiful and touching, but the 
 development not so good, — then, I think, silence should 
 not be observed; then, I think, blame can never be 
 unwise, for this is the point where great progress can 
 be made by the composer himself in his works ; and 
 as I believe that a man with fine capabilities has the 
 absolute duty imposed on him of becoming something 
 really superior, so I think that blame must be attributed 
 to him if he does not develop himself according to the 
 means with which he is endowed. And I maintain 
 that it is the same with a musical composition. Do 
 not tell me that it is so, and therefore it must remain 
 so. I know well that no musician can alter the 
 thoughts and talents which Heaven has bestowed on 
 him ; but I also know that when Providence grants 
 him superior ones, he must also develop them properly. 
 Do not declare, either, that we were all mistaken, and 
 that the execution was as much in fault as the compo- 
 sition. I do not believe it. I do believe that your 
 talents are such that you are inferior to no musician, 
 but I scarcely know one piece of yours that is system- 
 atically carried out. The two overtures are certainly 
 your best pieces, but the more distinctly you express 
 your thoughts, the more perceptible are the defects, 
 and, in my opinion, you must rectify them. 
 
 Do not ask me how, for that you know best yourself. 
 After all, it is only the affair of a walk, or a moment, — 
 in short, of a thought. If you laugh at me for this 
 long lecture, perhaps you may be quite right ; but cer- 
 tainly not so if you are displeased, or bear me a grudge 
 
LETTEK TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 91 
 
 for it ; though indeed it is very stupid in me even to 
 suggest such a possibility. But how many musicians 
 are there who would permit another to address them 
 thus ? And though you must see in every expression 
 of mine how much I love and revere your genius, still 
 I have told you that you are not absolute perfection, 
 and this musicians usually take amiss. But you will 
 not ; you know my sincere interest in you too well. 
 
 To Fanny Hensel, Berlin. 
 
 Leipzig, January 30th, 1836. 
 
 Dear Fanny, 
 
 To-day at length I can reply to your charming let- 
 ters, and lecture you severely for saying in your first 
 letter that it was long since you had been able to please 
 me by your music, and asking me how this was. I to- 
 tally deny this to be the fact, and assure you that all 
 you compose pleases me. If two or three things in 
 succession did not satisfy me as entirely as others of 
 yours, I think the ground lay no deeper than this, that 
 you have written less than in former days, when one 
 or two songs that did not exactly suit my taste were 
 so rapidly composed, and replaced so quickly by others, 
 that neither of us considered much why it was that 
 they were less attractive ; we only laftghed together 
 about them, and there was an end of it. 
 
 I may quote here “ Die Schonheit nicht, 0 Madchen,” 
 and many others in the ^^prima maniera of our master,’' 
 which we heartily abused. Then came beautiful songs 
 
92 
 
 MENDELSSOHN'S LETTERS. 
 
 in their turn, and so it is at present, only they cannot 
 follow each other in such quick succession, because you 
 must often now have other things to occupy your 
 thoughts besides composing pretty songs, and that is a 
 great blessing. But if you suppose that your more 
 recent compositions seem to me inferior to your earlier 
 ones, you are most entirely and totally mistaken, for 
 I know no song of yours better than the English one 
 in Gr minor, or the close of the “ Liederkreis,” and 
 many others of later date : besides, you are aware that 
 formerly there were entire hooks of your composition 
 that were less acceptable to me than others, because 
 my nature always was to be a screech-owl, and to 
 belong to the savage tribe of brothers. But you know 
 well how much I love all your productions, and some 
 are especially dear to my heart ; so I trust that you will 
 write to me forthwith that you have done me injustice, 
 by considering me a man devoid of taste, and that you 
 will never again do so. 
 
 And, then, neither in this letter nor in your former 
 one do you say one word about “ St. Paul ” or “ Melu- 
 sina,” as one colleague should write to another, — that 
 is, remarks on fifths, rhythm, and motion of the parts, 
 on conceptions, counterpoint, et ccetera animalia. You 
 ought to have done so, however, and should do so still, 
 for you know the value I attach to this ; and as “ St. 
 Paul” is shortly to be sent to the publisher, a few stric- 
 tures from you would come just at the right moment. 
 I write to you to-day solely in the hope of soon receiv- 
 ing an answer from you, for I am very weary and ex- 
 hausted from yesterday’s concert, where, in addition to 
 conducting three times, I was obliged to play Mozart’s 
 
Mozart’s d ^nor concerto. 
 
 93 
 
 D minor concerto. In the first movement I made a 
 cadenza^ which succeeded famously, and caused a tre- 
 mendous sensation among the Leipzigers. I must write 
 down the end of it for you. You remember the theme, 
 of course ? Towards the close of the cadence, arpeggios 
 come in pianissimo in D minor, thus — 
 
 Then again & minor arpeggios ; then 
 
 his. 
 
 ( 1 = 
 
 
 4- _SL_ 
 
 5 — 
 
 
 
 bis. 
 
 iszzS; 
 
 f— 
 
94 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 /r. 
 
 etc., to the close in D minor. Our second violin player, 
 an old musician, said to me afterwards, when he met 
 me in the passage, that he had heard it played in the 
 same Hall by Mozart himself, but since that day he had 
 heard no one introduce such good cadenzas as I did 
 yesterday, — which gave me very great pleasure. 
 
 Do you know Handel’s “ Coronation Anthem ? ” It 
 is most singular. The beginning is one of the finest 
 which not only Handel, but any man, ever composed; 
 and all the remainder, after the first short movement, 
 horridly dry and commonplace. The performers could 
 not master it, but are certainly far too busy to grieve 
 much about that. 
 
 Many persons here consider Melusina” to be my 
 best overture ; at all events, it is the most deeply felt ; 
 
MUSICAL STRIFE AT DuSSELDORF. 95 
 
 but as to the fabulous nonsense of the musical papers, 
 about* red coral and green sea-monsters, and magic 
 palaces, and deep seas, this is stupid stuff, and fills me 
 with amazement. But now I take my leave of water 
 for some time to come, and must see how things are 
 going on elsewhere.* I received to-day a letter from 
 Dusseldorf, with the news of the musical doings there, 
 and a request to send “ St. Paul ’ soon for the Musical 
 Festival. I cannot deny that when I read the descrip- 
 tion of their concerts, and some concert bills which 
 were enclosed, and realized the state of the musical 
 world there, I had a most agreeable sensation at my 
 change of position. They cannot well be compared; 
 for while there they are engaged in perpetual quarrel- 
 ling and strife and petty criticisms, here, on the con- 
 trary, during the course of this whole winter, my 
 situation has not caused me to pass one disagreeable 
 day, or to hear hardly one annoying expression, while 
 I have enjoyed much pleasure and gratification. The 
 whole orchestra, and there are some able men among 
 them, strive to guess my wishes at a glance ; they have 
 made the most extraordinary progress in finish and re- 
 finement, and are so devoted to me, that I often feel 
 quite affected by it. 
 
 Would that I were less sad and sorrowful; for some- 
 times I do not know what to do, and can only hope 
 that the approaching spring and the warm weather 
 may cheer me. 
 
 * This refers to the circumstaDce of Mendelssohn's father having 
 advised him to “ hang up on a nail’’ the elfin and spirit life with which* 
 for a certain period, Mendelssohn had chiefly occupied himself in his 
 compositions, and to proceed to graver works. 
 
96 
 
 MENDELSSOHNS LETTERS. 
 
 I trust, you and yours may all continue well and 
 happy, and sometimes think of me. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Dr. Frederick Eosen, London, 
 
 (PROFESSOR OF ORIENTAL LANGUAGES.) 
 
 Leipzig, February 6th, 1896. 
 
 My dear Friend, 
 
 I had intended writing to you long ago, but have 
 always delayed it till now, when I am compelled to do 
 so by Klingemann’s announcement that your Yedas” 
 is finished. I wish therefore to send you my congratu- 
 lations at once ; and though I understand very little of 
 it, and consequently can appreciate its merits as little, 
 still I wish you joy of being able to give to the world a 
 work so long cherished, and so interesting to you, and 
 which cannot fail to bring you new fame and new de- 
 light. And when I feel how little I, who never learnt 
 the language, can do justice to the vast circumference 
 of such a work, I may indeed congratulate you on the 
 fact that no spurious connoisseurs or dilettanti grope 
 their way into your most favourite thoughts, while you 
 must feel the more secure and tranquil in your own 
 vocation, because arrogant ignorance cannot presume 
 to attack you behind your bulwarks of quaint letters 
 and hieroglyphics. They must at least first be able to 
 criticize ; so you are better off in this respect than we 
 are, against whom they always appeal to their own 
 paltry conceptions. 
 
LETTER TO HIS MOTHER. 
 
 97 
 
 I feel like a person waking drowsily. I cannot suc- 
 ceed in realizing the present, and there is a constant 
 alternation of my old habitual cheerfulness and the 
 most heartfelt deep grief, so that I cannot attain to 
 anything like steady composure of mind. In the mean 
 time, however, I occupy myself as much as possible, 
 and that is the only thing that does me good. My 
 position here is of the most agreeable nature, — cordial 
 people, a good orchestra, the most susceptible and 
 grateful musical public ; only just as much work to do 
 as I hke, and an opportunity of hearing my new com- 
 positions at once. I have plenty of pleasant society 
 besides, so that this would indeed seem to be all that 
 was required to constitute happiness, were it not deeper 
 seated ! 
 
 Farewell, dear friend, and do not forget your 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Barthold y. 
 
 To HIS Mother. 
 
 Leipzig, February 18th, 1836. 
 
 Dear Mother, 
 
 I cannot write home without enclosing a fbw lines 
 for you, and thanking you a thousand times for your 
 dear letter, and begging you to write to me as often as 
 you wish to make me very happy. I have scarcely 
 thanked you, and Fanny, and Eebecca, for the beautiful 
 presents you sent me on the 3d, and which made the 
 day so pleasant to me. The leader of the orchestra, 
 when I went to rehearsal on the morning of that day, 
 9 
 
98 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 addressed me in a complimentary speech, which was 
 very gratifying, and when we sat down to dinner at 
 
 S ’s, I found a silver cup, which four of my friends 
 
 here had ordered for me with an inscription and their 
 names, under my napkin. All this was welcome and 
 cheering. In the evening, when I had carefully put 
 away your store of linen, and placed Kebecca’s travel- 
 ling case beside my map of Grermany and the keys of 
 my trunk, and had read “Fiesco” in Fanny’s book, 
 which I was formerly so pleased with (but now less 
 so), then I felt considerably older, and thought of Aunt 
 Lette, who wrote me a note on my twentieth birth- 
 day, which began, “ My poor Felix ! actually ten years 
 hence no longer a boy I” 
 
 I am curious to learn whether Gusikow pleased you 
 as much as he did me. He is quite a phenomenon ; a 
 famous fellow, inferior to no virtuoso in the world, 
 both in execution and facility; he therefore delights 
 me more with his instrument of wood and straw, than 
 many with their pianofortes, just because it is such a 
 thankless kind of instrument. A capital scene took 
 place at his concert here. I went out to join him in 
 the room where he was, in order to speak to him and 
 compliment him. Schleinitz and David wished to come 
 with me ; a whole group of Polish J ews followed in 
 our wake, anxious to hear our eulogiums ; but when 
 we came to the side room, they pressed forward sc 
 quickly that David and Schleinitz were left in the rear 
 and the door shut right in their faces ; then the Jews ak 
 stood quite still, waiting to hear the compliments Gu- 
 sikow was about to receive. At first I could not speak 
 for laughing, seeing the small room crammed full of 
 
ST. CECILIA ASSOCIATION. 
 
 99 
 
 these bearded fellows, and my two friends shut out. It 
 is long since I so much enjoyed any concert as this, for 
 the man is a true genius. 
 
 The direction of the St. Cecilia Association at Frank- 
 fort-on- the-Main had been confidentially offered to me. 
 I can with truth say that it caused me more pain than 
 pleasure, because it is evident from this that Schelble’s 
 return is considered out of the question. If it really 
 be so (which I shall take care to ascertain), I will on 
 no account accept the offer. But if there were a pos- 
 sibility of improvement, and I could in any degree be 
 ot service to Schelble, by giving an impetus to his In- 
 stitute next summer (for I hear that all the winter it 
 has been almost dead), and if he could resume the du- 
 ties himself next winter, I should feel real pleasure in 
 doing this for him, even if all my travelling projects 
 were to be overthrown. For once it would be doing a 
 real service, both to a friend, and to the cause itself. 
 
 And now I must dress, for I am going to direct a 
 concert. Merk is here ; he gives a concert next Sun- 
 day, where I am to play with him again : it is the 
 seventh time this winter, but I could not possibly re- 
 fuse; for when I see my old companion again, the 
 whole autumn of 1830 is brought before my eyes, and 
 our music at Eskele’s, our playing billiards at the 
 Karnthner Thor, and driving to Baden in a fiacre^ etc. 
 Besides, he is beyond all question the very first of all 
 living violoncello-players. Farewell, dear Mother. — 
 Your 
 
 Felix, 
 
100 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To HIS Mother. 
 
 Dusseldorf, June 1 st, 1836. 
 
 Dear Mother, 
 
 I hope you have forgiven my long silence. There 
 was so much to do, both before and during my journey 
 here, that I was scarcely able to attend even to the 
 duties of the passing hour ; and what has gone on here 
 since my arrival* you know better than if I had myself 
 written, for I trust Paul and Fanny are now happily 
 returned, and of course described everything verbally 
 to you. 
 
 On Saturday, the 4th, I am to go to Frankfort, a 
 week hence to direct, for the first time, the St. Cecilia 
 Association. To be sure, my charming Swiss projects, 
 and the sea-baths in Grenoa, have thus melted into air ; 
 but still my being able to do a real service to Schelble 
 and his undertaking is of no small value in my eyes. 
 There seemed to be an idea that the St. Cecilia Asso- 
 ciation would be dispersed, and Schelble appeared very 
 much to dread the lukewarmness of the members during 
 his absence. As they aU hoped and believed that I 
 could prevent this by my presence, I did not for a mo- 
 ment hesitate, though the Frankfort musicians will be 
 desperately astonished, and will now see what can be 
 done w thin eight weeks. Hiller, whom I like so 
 much, is by chance to be in Frankfort the whole time, 
 which will be a great advantage for me. 
 
 It gives me peculiar pleasure to be able to write to 
 
 * He alludes to the Musical Festival, where “ St. Paul ” was per- 
 formed for the first time. 
 
ENGAGEMENT AT FRANKFORT. 
 
 101 
 
 you that I am now fairly established in Germany, and 
 shall not require to make a pilgrimage into foreign 
 countries to secure my existence. This, indeed, has 
 only been evident during the last year, and since my 
 being placed at Leipzig; but now I have no longer 
 any doubts on the subject, and think there is no want 
 of modesty in rejoicing at the fact and mentioning it 
 to you. 
 
 The manner in which I was received on my journey, 
 in Frankfort, and afterwards here, was all that a mu- 
 sician could desire ; and although this may mean in 
 reality little or nothing, still it is a token of friendship 
 wliich is always gratifying ; and I value all such tokens, 
 because I am well aware that I have taken no steps to 
 call them forth. I therefore almost rejoice when you 
 call me ‘Hhe reverse of a charlatan,” and when many 
 things fall to my share unasked for, about which others 
 give themselves a great deal of trouble ; for I may then 
 venture to believe that I deserve them. I wish only I 
 could have written these words to my father, for he 
 would have read them with satisfaction. But his dear- 
 est wish was progress ; he always directed me to press 
 forwards, and so I think I am doing his will when I 
 continue to labour in this sense, and endeavour to 
 make progress without any ulterior views beyond my 
 own improvement. Farewell, dear Mother. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 9 * 
 
102 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To Herr Advocat Conrad Sohleinitz, Leipzio. 
 
 Cologne, July 5th, 1836. 
 
 Dear Schleinitz, 
 
 I have in vain sought a moment of leisure, after the 
 Musical Festival, to send you my first greeting and let- 
 ter since my journey. In Dusseldorf the bustle was 
 great, and no end to all kinds of music,,/e^es, and re- 
 creations, which never left me quiet a moment. I have 
 been staying a day here to revive and rest, with my 
 old President;* and as evening is now approaching, 
 about the time when you used to peep into my room, 
 I feel an impulse, if only for a moment, to shake hands 
 and say good-evening. 
 
 You would certainly have been for some time well 
 amused and delighted with the Musical Festival ; and, 
 from your taking so friendly an interest in me and my 
 “ St. Paul,” I thought, a hundred times at least, during 
 the rehearsals, what a pity it was that you were not 
 there. You would assuredly have been delighted by 
 the love and good will with which the whole affair was 
 carried on, and the marvellous fire with which the 
 chorus and orchestra burst forth, — though there were 
 individual passages, especially in the solos, which might 
 have annoyed you. I think I see your face, could you 
 have heard the St. Paul’s aria sung in an indifferent, 
 mechanical manner, and I think I hear you breaking 
 loose on the Apostle of the G-entiles in a dressing- 
 gown ; but then I know also how charmed you would 
 have been with the ^^Mache dich auf,” which went 
 
 * Verkeniua. 
 
COLOGNE MUSICAL FESTIVAL. 
 
 103 
 
 really splendidly. My feelings were singular ; during 
 the w^hole of the rehearsals and the performance I 
 thought httle enough about directing, but listened 
 eagerly to the general effect, and whether it went 
 right according to my idea, without thinking of any- 
 thing else. When the people gave me a flourish of 
 trumpets or applauded, it was very welcome for the 
 moment, but then my father came back to my mind, 
 and I strove once more to recall my thoughts to my 
 work. Thus, during the entire performance I was al- 
 most in the position of a listener, and tried to retain 
 an impression of the whole. Many parts caused me 
 much pleasure, others not so; but I learnt a lesson 
 from it all, and hope to succeed better the next time I 
 write an oratorio. 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Frankfort, July 14th, 1836. 
 
 Dear Mother and dear Rebecca, 
 
 I have just received your affectionate letters, and 
 must answer them instantly, for indeed I had been 
 eagerly expecting them for several days past, during 
 which I have done nothing but lie on the sofa and read 
 Eckermann’s “Conversations with Groethe,” and long 
 for letters from . home which I could answer. I am as 
 much delighted with Eckermann as you are, my dear 
 Mother and Sister. I feel just as if I heard the old 
 gentleman speaking again, for there are many things 
 introduced into the work which are the very same 
 
104 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 words I have heard him use, and I know his tone ana 
 gestures by heart. I must say that Eckermann is not 
 sufficiently independent. He is always rejoicing over 
 “ this important phrase, which pray mark well.” But 
 it must be admitted that it was a difficult position for 
 the old man, and we ought to be grateful to him for 
 his faithful notices, and also for his delicacy, — a contrast 
 to Eiemer. 
 
 Here I am, seated in the well-known corner room 
 with the beautiful view, in Schelble’s house, he and his 
 wife being gone to visit his property in Swabia, and 
 they do not return to Frankfort so long as I am here ; 
 but the accounts his wife has sent here are very con- 
 solatory, and inspire us all with much hope. There is 
 no one living in this house but Schelble’s mother-in- 
 law, and a maid-servant, on one side, — and myself, 
 with two travelling-bags and a hat-box, on the other. 
 At first I was unwilling to come here, owing to many 
 remembrances, but now I am glad that I came. A 
 very kind reception, an excellent grand pianoforte, 
 plenty of music, entire rest, and undisturbed tranquilli- 
 ty, are all things which are nowhere to be found in an 
 inn ; and I might well be envied the view from my 
 corner window. In this splendid summer weather I 
 see all down the Main, with its numerous boats, rafts, 
 and ships, the gay shore opposite, and, above all, my 
 old favourite, the Wartthurm, facing the south, and on 
 the other side the blue hills. I came here with plans 
 for great industry, but for nearly a week I have done 
 little else every forenoon but admire the prospect and 
 sun myself. I must go on in the same way for a couple 
 of days still, — idleness is so pleasant, and agrees with 
 
FRIENDS AT FRANKFORT. 
 
 105 
 
 me so well. My last days in Diisseldorf, and my first 
 here, were crammed so full that I could only recover 
 my balance by degrees. The very day of my arrival 
 here, I had to direct the St. Cecilia Association ; then 
 came my numerous acquaintances, old and new, and 
 the arrangements for the next few weeks. I was 
 obliged to take a rest after all this, or at least I said so 
 to myself, to palliate, and furnish a pretext for, my 
 love of idleness. The St. Cecilia Association went on 
 well, and they were very friendly ,* I however made a 
 speech that deserved to have been written down. We 
 sang some things from “ Samson,” and some from the 
 B minor Mass of Bach. There was much worth re- 
 membering in the former. The Bach went almost 
 faultlessly, though it is fully twice as difficult ; and so 
 I had a fresh opportunity of admiring how Schelble, by 
 dint of his admirable tenacity, has succeeded in making 
 his will obeyed. I shall not be able to do much for 
 the association. Six weeks are not sufficient; and, 
 even under the most favourable circumstances, Schel- 
 ble’s physician wishes him to rest the whole of the en- 
 suing winter. How the matter will proceed then we 
 know not. All the musicians here think too much 
 about themselves, and too little about their work ; but 
 we shah see how this may be, and what we have now 
 to do is to provide for the intervening time ; and I re- 
 joice to be able in this respect to oblige Schelble. I 
 must say, my life assumes a most agreeable form here. 
 Hever could I have thought that through my overtures 
 and songs I could have become such a hon with the 
 musical world. The ‘‘Melusina’’ and the “Hebrides” 
 are as famihar to them as to us at home (I mean Ho. 3, 
 
106 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 Leipziger Strasse), and the dilettanti dispute warmly 
 about my intentions. 
 
 Then Hiller is here, at all times a delightful sight to 
 me, and we have always much that is interesting to 
 discuss together. To my mind, he is not sufficiently 
 — what shall I call it ? — one-sided. By nature he loves 
 Bach and Beethoven beyond all others, and would 
 therefore prefer adopting wholly the graver style of 
 music ; but then he is much delighted also with Ros- 
 sini, Auber, Bellini, etc., and with this variety of tastes 
 no man makes real progress. So this forms the subject 
 of all our conversations as soon as we see each other, 
 and it is most agreeable to me to be with him for some 
 time, and, if possible, to lead him to my mode of think- 
 ing. . . . Early yesterday I went to see him, and whom 
 should I find sitting there but Rossini, as large as life, 
 in his best and most amiable mood ? I really know 
 few men who can be so amusing and witty as he, 
 when he chooses ; he kept us laughing incessantly the 
 whole time. I promised that the St. Cecilia Association 
 should sing for him the B minor Mass, and some other 
 things of Sebastian Bach’s. It will be quite too 
 charming to see Rossini obliged to admire Sebastian 
 Back ; he thinks, however, different countries, different 
 customs,” and is resolved to howl with the wolves. He 
 says he is enchanted with Germany, and when he once 
 gets the list of wines at the Rhine Hotel in the even- 
 ing, the waiter is obliged to show him his room, or he 
 could never manage to find it. He relates the most 
 laughable and amusing things about Paris and all the 
 musicians there, as well as of himself and his com- 
 positions, and entertains the most profound respect for 
 
ROSSINI. 
 
 107 
 
 all the men of the present day^ — so that you might 
 really believe him, if you had no eyes to see his sar- 
 castic face. Intellect, and animation, and wit, sparkle 
 in all his features and in every word, and those who do 
 not consider him a genius ought to hear him expatiat- 
 ing in this way, and they would change their opinion. 
 
 I was lately with S , also, but it was miserable 
 
 to hear him grumbling and abusing everybody. At 
 last he vowed that all men were nothing but a tire- 
 some pack; I answered that I considered this very 
 modest on his part, as I concluded he did not look upon 
 himself as an angel or a demigod, when, quite contrary 
 to my expectations, we instantly became the best of 
 friends, and he ended by declaring that, after all, the 
 world pleased him very well. This is not surprising, 
 as he was sitting in his garden in the country, with a 
 beautiful landscape and a lovely view ; and in a region 
 hke this, in such weather and under such a sky, very 
 little fault can be found with the world. The scenery 
 round Frankfort pleases me this time beyond every- 
 thing, — such fruitfulness, richness of verdure, gardens 
 and fields, and the beautiful blue hills as a background ! 
 and then a forest beyond; to ramble there in the even- 
 ings under the splendid beech-trees, among the in- 
 numerable herbs and flowers and blackberries and 
 strawberries, makes the heart swell with gratitude. 
 
 Yesterday afternoon I visited Andre at OiTenbach; 
 he sends you his kind regards, and is the same fiery, 
 eager person he ever was. His reception of me was, 
 however, more cordial and more gratifying than that 
 of all the other musicians; he really does somewhat 
 resemble my father. Is it not singular that several 
 
108 
 
 MENDELSSOHNS LETTERS. 
 
 persons here have lately said to me that I am like 
 what Andre was in his younger days ? and you may 
 remember that Tie was formerly often mistaken for my 
 father. He scanned me closely from head to foot, and 
 said I had now my third face since he had first known 
 me ; the second he had not at all approved of, but now 
 he liked me much better. The conversation then 
 tnrned on counterpoint and Yoglea*, and he attacked 
 him in spite of Zelter, and dragged forth a couple of 
 folios as proof on his side. I could not prevail on my- 
 self to go to the Rothschilds, in spite of their very 
 flattering invitation. I am not in the vein or humour 
 at present for balls or any other festivities, and like 
 should draw to like.” At the same time, these people 
 really cause me much pleasure, and their splendour 
 and luxury, and the universal respect with which the 
 citizens here are forced to regard them all (though they 
 would gladly assault them if they dared), is a real 
 source of exultation, for it is all owing entirely to their 
 own industry, good fortune, and abilities. The 15th 
 has actually dawned ; this is a regular chattering, gos- 
 siping letter. — Your Felix. 
 
 To Rebecca Dirichlet, Berlin. 
 
 Frankfort, July 2d, 1836. 
 
 . . . Such is my mood now the whole day ; I can 
 neither compose nor write letters, nor play the piano ; 
 the utmost I can do is to sketch a little,* but I must 
 
 ♦ This letter was written a short time before his betrothal. 
 
COMPLETION OF ST. PAUL.” 109 
 
 thank you for your kind expressions about ^‘St. Paul; ” 
 such words from you are the best and dearest that I 
 can ever hear, and what you and Panny say on the 
 subject the public say also; ... no other exists for me. 
 I only wish you would write to me a few times more 
 about it, and very minutely as to my other music. The 
 whole time that I have been here I have worked at 
 ‘‘ St. Paul,” because I wish to publish it in as complete 
 a form as possible ; and, moreover, I am quite convinced 
 that the beginning of the first and the end of the se- 
 cond part are now nearly three times as good as they 
 were, and such was my duty ; for in many points, es- 
 pecially as to subordinate matters in so large a work, I 
 only succeed by degrees in realizing my thoughts and 
 expressing them clearly; in the principal movements 
 and melodies I can no longer indeed make any alter- 
 ation, because they occur at once to my mind just as 
 they are; but I am not sufficiently advanced to say 
 this of every part. I have now, however, been working 
 for rather more than two years at one oratorio ; this is 
 certainly a very long time, and I rejoice at the approach 
 of the moment when I shall correct the proofs, and be 
 done with it, and begin something else. 
 
 I must tell you of the real delight with which I 
 have read here the first books of Groethe’s Wahrheit 
 und Dichtung.” I had never taken up the book since 
 my boyhood, because I did not like it then ; but I can- 
 not express how much it now pleases me, and how 
 much additional pleasure I take in it, from knowing all 
 the localities. One of its pages makes me forget all 
 the miseres in literature and art of the present day. 
 iO 
 
110 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To Eebeoca Dirichlet, Berlin, 
 
 LeipKig, January 8 th, 18 S7. 
 
 . . . Last Wednesday there was a fete at the Keils’, 
 where it rained Christmas gifts and poems; among 
 others I got one, celebrating my betrothal in a romantic 
 vein “ at Frankfort-on-the-Zeil,” and which was much 
 admired. As they began to sing songs at table, and I 
 was looking rather dismal, Schleinitz suddenly called 
 out to me that I ought to compose music for my ro- 
 mance on the spot, that they might have something 
 new to sing, and the young ladies bringing me a pencil 
 and music-paper, the request amused me very much, 
 and I composed the song under shelter of my napkin ; 
 while the rest were eating cakes, I wrote out the four 
 parts, and before the pine-apples were finished, the 
 singers got their A note, and sang it to such perfection, 
 and so con amove that it caused universal delight and 
 animated the whole society. 
 
 To Ferdinand Hiller. 
 
 LeipBiK, January 10th, 1837. 
 
 ... You once extolled my position here because I 
 had made friends of all the G-erman composers : quite 
 the reverse ; I am in bad odour with them all this win- 
 ter. Six new symphonies are lying before me ; what 
 they may be God knows (I would rather not know) ; 
 not one of them pleases me, and no one is to blame for 
 this but myself.' who allow m^other composer to come 
 
NEW COMPOSITIONS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 before the public, — I mean in the way of symphonies. 
 Good heavens! should not these Capellmeisters’’ be 
 ashamed of themselves and search their own breasts ? 
 But that detestable artistic pedantry, which they all 
 possess, and that baneful spark divine of which they so 
 often read, — these ruin everything. I sent my six 
 preludes and fugues to the printer’s to-day : I fear they 
 will not be much played; still I should like you to 
 look over them once in a way, and to say if any of 
 them pleased you, or the reverse. Next month three 
 organ fugues are to be published , — me voild perruque ! 
 Heaven grant that some spirited pianoforte piece may 
 occur to me, to efface tliis unpleasant impression. 
 
 To Fanny Hensel, Berlin. 
 
 Frankfort-a.-M., May 29th, 1837. 
 
 This is but a sorry time for musicians. Look at the 
 St. Cecilia Association, — experienced singers, good re- 
 spectable people, obliging chiefs, — nothing requisite 
 but a little pianoforte playing, and a little good will 
 towards music, and a little knowledge ; neither genius, 
 nor energy, nor pohtics, nor anything else very par- 
 ticular. I should have thought that fifty people at 
 least would have offered themselves, so that we might 
 have had a choice ; but scarcely two have come for- 
 ward whom it is possible to appoint, and not one who 
 is capable of carrying on the association in the right, 
 true, and noble spirit in which it was commenced, — 
 that is, in plain German, not one who can perceive that 
 
112 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 Handel and Bach, and such people, are superior to 
 what they themselves can do or say. Heukomm, in 
 whom I would have placed most confidence in this re- 
 spect, was in treaty for the situation, and had decidedly 
 accepted it, and now all of a sudden he as decidedly 
 declines it. So there will be no one to undertake the 
 affair but Ries, who will probably do so, but unfortu- 
 nately he is deficient in that necessary respect for the 
 great works of art which is, and always will be, to me, 
 the chief consideration. It is grievous to think of aU 
 the trouble and hard work which it cost Schelble to lay 
 a good foundation, and now the end is that it will be 
 finally broken up. People here are highly satisfied 
 with Hiller’s mode of directing, although they were so 
 troublesome to him at first ; but two months hence he 
 goes to Italy, being resolved not to stay here; and 
 who knows that this may not be the very reason why 
 they all now regret him so much ! This is an odious 
 thing in the world. 
 
 It has just occurred to me that if you wish to sing 
 anything during the next few months, send for “ Theo- 
 dora,” by Handel, and look it over; at aU events it 
 will please you, as there are some splendid choruses 
 and airs in it, and perhaps you might manage to have 
 it translated into German (which, indeed, ought to be 
 very much better done, for the text is perfectly absurd) 
 and perform it in your own house, with a small choir. 
 Unluckily, it is not adapted for a performance on a 
 large scale ; but some parts of it, the final chorus for 
 instance, are as fine as anything you ever heard of 
 Handel’s. 
 
PUBLICATION OF MUSIC. 
 
 113 
 
 To HIS Mother. 
 
 Frankfort, June 2d, 1837, 
 
 . . You write to me about Fanny’s new composi- 
 tions, and say that I ought to persuade her to publish 
 them. Your praise is, however, quite unnecessary to 
 make me heartily rejoice in them, or think them charm- 
 ing and admirable* for I know by whom they are 
 written. I hope, too, I need not say that, if she does 
 resolve to pubhsh anything, I will do all in my power 
 to obtain every facility for her, and to relieve her, so far 
 as I can, from all trouble which can possibly be spared 
 her. But to persuade her to publish anything I cannot, 
 because this is contrary to my views and to my convic- 
 tions. We have often formerly discussed the subject, 
 and I still remain exactly of the same opinion. I 
 consider the publication of a work as a serious matter 
 (at least it ought to be so), for I maintain that no one 
 should publish unless they are resolved to appear as an 
 author for the rest of their life. For this purpose, 
 however, a succession of works is indispensable, one after 
 another. Nothing but annoyance is to be looked for 
 from pubhshing, where one or two works alone are in 
 question ; or it becomes what is called a “ manuscript 
 for private circulation,” which I also dislike ; and from 
 my knowledge of Fanny I should say she has neither 
 mclination nor vocation for authorship. She is too 
 much all that a woman ought to be for this. She regu- 
 lates her house, and neither thinks of the public nor of 
 the musical world, nor even of music at all, until her 
 first duties are fulfilled. Pubhshing would only disturb 
 her in these, and I cannot say that I approve of it. I 
 10 * 
 
114 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 will not, therefore, persuade her to this step : forgive 
 me for saying so. If she resolves to publish, either 
 from her own impulse or to please Hensel, I am, as I 
 said before, quite ready to assist her so far as I can j 
 but to encourage her in what I do not consider right, 
 is what I cannot do. 
 
 To HIS Mother. 
 
 Bingen, July 13th, 1837. 
 
 Dear Mother, 
 
 We have been here for the last eight days, having 
 suddenly left Frankfort ; and, as it is nearly decided that 
 we are to reside here for some weeks, I now write to 
 thank you for your affectionate letters. 
 
 I feel rather provoked that Fanny should say the 
 new pianoforte school outgrows her : this is far from 
 being the case ; she could cut down all these petty fel- 
 lows with ease. They can execute a few variations and 
 tours de force cleverly enough, but all this facility, and 
 coquetting with facility, no longer succeeds in dazzling 
 even the public. There must be soul, in order to carry 
 others along with you ; thus, though I might perhaps 
 
 prefer listening to D for an hour than to Fanny 
 
 for an hour, still at the end of a week I am so tired 
 of him that I can no longer listen to him, whereas then 
 I first begin to enjoy hearing the other style of play- 
 ing, and that is the right style. All this is not more 
 than Kalkbrenner could do in his day, and it wiU pass 
 away even during our day, if there be nothing better 
 
MODERN PIANO MUSIC. 115 
 
 than mere execution ; but this Fanny also has : so she 
 has no cause to fear any one of them all. 
 
 The view from these windows is of itself well worth 
 a journey here, for our hotel is situated close to the 
 Khine, opposite hTiederwald, — the Mausethurm to the 
 left, and to the right Johannisberg. To-day I have at 
 last succeeded in borrowing a piano and a Bible ; both 
 were very difficult to hunt out, first because the people 
 at Bingen are not musical, and secondly because they 
 are Catholics, and therefore ignore both a piano and 
 Luther’s translation; however, I have at length pro- 
 cured both, and so I begin to feel very comfortable here. 
 I must now be very busy, for as yoi; I have not written 
 out a single note of my concerto, and yesterday I heard 
 from Birmingham that the Musical Festival is all 
 arranged, and they are in hopes that Queen Victoria 
 will be present. That would be capital ! 
 
 Old Schadow and W. Schadow were here lately, 
 along with their families, and we stumbled upon each 
 other quite unexpectedly in the entrance hall. I wish 
 you could have heard the description the old man gave 
 of Fanny’s accompaniment on the piano ; he was full 
 of enthousiasme^ and most excited on the subject. A 
 sketch also of the seances of the musical section of the 
 Academy where he is obliged to preside, was not bad 
 by way of contrast; except Spontini, no one either 
 speaks or shows any signs of life in it, for which there 
 are good reasons. 
 
 It is indeed very sad to see the way in which the 
 latter contrives to irritate all Berlin against him, 
 destroying and ruining everything and yet causing 
 himself only vexation and anxiety and worry, — like an 
 
IIG 
 
 Mendelssohn's letthrs. 
 
 ill-assorted marriage, where both parties are in the 
 wrong when they come to blows. 
 
 Ask Fanny, dear Mother, what she says to my inten- 
 tion of playing Bach’s organ prelude in E flat major in 
 Birmingham — 
 
 and the fligue at the end of the same book. I suspect 
 it will puzzle me ; and yet I think I am right. I have 
 an idea that this very prelude will be peculiarly accepta- 
 ble to the English, and you can play both prelude and 
 fugue 'piano and pianissimo^ and also bring out the full 
 power of the organ. Faith! I can tell you it is no 
 stupid composition. 
 
 I have lately determined to have a new oratorio ready 
 for the next Diisseldorf Musical Festival ; two years are 
 yet to come before then, but I must stick to my work. 
 I will write about the text as soon as I have decided 
 on the subject. I hear nothing of Holtei and his opera 
 libretto, and so I must begin a second oratorio, much 
 as I should have liked to write an opera just at this 
 moment. I sadly want a true thorough-going man for 
 many fine projects ; whether he will appear, or whether 
 I am mistaken, I know not, but hitherto I have never 
 been able to discover him. 
 
 I occupy myself continually here in drawing figures, 
 but I don’t succeed very well. From want of practice 
 this winter, I have forgotten what I knew much better 
 last summer, when Schadow gave me every day a short 
 drawing-lesson at Scheveling, and taught me to sketch 
 
NEW PROJECTS. 
 
 117 
 
 peasants, soldiers, old apple-women, and street boys. 
 Yesterday, however, I made a drawing of Bishop Hatto, 
 at the moment of being eaten up by the mice, — a 
 splendid subject for aU beginners. In this letter, music, 
 the Eheingau, and gossip go hand-in-hand. Forgive 
 this, dear Mother. It is the same in real life. 
 
 To Pastor Julius Schubring, Dessau. 
 
 Bingen-a.-R., July 14th, 1837. 
 
 Dear Schubring, 
 
 I wish to ask your advice in a matter which is of 
 importance to me, and I feel it will therefore not be 
 indifferent to you either, having received so many proofs 
 to the contrary from you. It concerns the selection of 
 a subject of an oratorio, which I intend to begin next 
 winter. I am most anxious to have your counsels, as 
 the best suggestions and contributions for the text of 
 my “ St. Paul” came from you. 
 
 Many very apparent reasons are in favour of choos- 
 ing St. Peter as the subject, — I mean its being intended 
 for the Diisseldorf Musical Festival at Whitsuntide, and 
 the prominent position the feast of Whitsunday would 
 occupy in this subject. In addition to these grounds, I 
 may add my wish (in connection with a greater plan 
 for a later oratorio) to bring the two chief apostles and 
 pillars of the Christian Church side by side in oratorios, 
 — in short, that I should have a ‘‘St. Peter” as well as 
 a “ St. Paul.” I need not tell you that there are suffi- 
 cient internal grounds to make me prize the subject, 
 
118 
 
 MENDELSSOHNS LETTERS. 
 
 and far above all else stands the outpouring of the 
 Holy Grhost, which must form the central point, or 
 chief object. The question therefore is (and this you 
 can decide far better than I can, because you possess 
 the knowledge in which I am deficient, to guide you) 
 whether the place that Peter assumes in the BiUe^ 
 divested of the dignity which he enjoys in the Catholic 
 or Protestant Churches, as a martyr, or the first Pope, 
 etc. etc., — whether what is said of him in the Bible is 
 alone and in itself sufficiently important to form the 
 basis of a symbolical oratorio. For, according to my 
 feeling, the subject must not be treated historically, 
 however indispensable this was in the case of ‘^St. 
 Paul.” In historic handling, Christ must appear in the 
 earlier part of St, Peter’s career, and, where He appears, 
 St. Peter could not lay claim to the chief interest. I 
 think, therefore, it must be symbolical; though all the 
 historical points might probably be introduced, — the 
 betrayal and repentance, the keys of heaven given him 
 by Christ, his preaching at Pentecost— not in an histori- 
 cal, but prophetic fight, if I may so express myself, in 
 close connection. 
 
 My question then is, whether you think this possible, 
 or at least so far possible, that it may become an im- 
 portant and personal object for every member of the 
 community ? — also, whether it is your opinion, that, even 
 if actually feasible, it should be carried out entirely by 
 means of Scriptural passages, and what particular parts 
 of the Bible you would especially recommend for the 
 purpose ? Lastly, if in this event you will hereafter, as 
 you previously did, make a selection of certain passages 
 out of the Bible, and send them to me ? 
 
ORATORIO OF “ ST. PETER. 
 
 119 
 
 The chief thing, however, is the first point, for I am 
 still in the dark about it ; in fact, about the possibility 
 of the whole undertaking : write to me as soon as you 
 can on the subject. In thinking it over, my first idea 
 was that the subject must be divided into two parts : the 
 first, fi:om the moment of forsaking the fishermen’s 
 nets down to the “ Tu es Petrus,” with which it must 
 close : the second to consist of the Feast of Pentecost 
 only; from the misery after the death of Christ and 
 repentance of Peter, to the outpouring of the Holy 
 Ghost.* 
 
 Forgive me for assailing you so suddenly with all 
 this. During the few months since we have met, I 
 cannot teU you what a great and happy change has 
 taken place in me.t I hope you will come and stay 
 with us next winter, and pass some days here ; then 
 you will in a short time see for yourself, what even at 
 any length I really could not describe. I intend to be 
 in Leipzig again, the end of September, and till then 
 shall remain principally here on the Ehine, or at Frank- 
 fort. Pray answer me soon, if only by a few lines. — 
 Your F. M. B. 
 
 * This project was never fulfilled, but the letter is inserted, as it 
 proves the deep earnestness with which Mendelssohn treated such 
 subjects. 
 
 t Mendelssohn’s marriage. 
 
120 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To ms Mother. 
 
 Leipzig, October 4fh, 1837. 
 
 Dearest Mother, 
 
 It ought to have been my first occupation to write 
 to you as soon after the busy time of the last few 
 weeks as I had some leisure, to thank you for so many 
 loving letters. I wished also to let you know of our 
 safe arrival here, and yet two days have elapsed with- 
 out the possibility of doing so. I seize the early morn- 
 ing for this purpose, or people will again come, one 
 succeeding another till the post hour is passed, which 
 happened yesterday and the day before. I cannot at 
 this time attempt to describe the Birmingham Musical 
 Festival ; it would require many sheets to do so, and 
 whole evenings when we are once more together even 
 cursorily to mention all the remarkable things crowded 
 into those days.* One thing, however, I must tell 
 you, because I know it wiU give you pleasure, which 
 is, that I never had such brilliant success, and can 
 never have any more unequivocal than at this festival. 
 The applause and shouts at the least glimpse of me 
 were incessant, and sometimes really made me laugh ; 
 for instance, they prevented my being able for long to 
 sit down to the instrument to play a pianoforte con- 
 certo ; and what is better than all this applause, and a 
 sure proof of my success, were the offers made to me 
 on all sides, and of a very different tenor this time 
 from what they ever were before. 
 
 * “ St. Paul ” was performed for the first time in England at this 
 FostivaL 
 
NEUKOMM. 
 
 121 
 
 I may well say that I now see, beyond doubt, that all 
 this is only bestowed on me because in the course of 
 my work I do not in the least concern myself as to 
 what people wish and praise and pay for, but solely as 
 to what I consider good, so I shall now less than ever 
 allow myself to be turned aside from my own path. I 
 therefore peculiarly rejoice in my success, and I feel 
 more confident than ever, that not the smallest effort 
 shall be made by me to insure success, nor indeed ever 
 has been made. I had besides a very striking proof of 
 the value of all such things, in the manner in which 
 iSTeukomm was on this occasion received in Birming- 
 ham. You know how highly they honoured and really 
 overvalued him formerly, and how much all his works 
 were prized and sought after here, so that the musi- 
 cians used to call him the king of Brummagem;'^ 
 whereas on this occasion they neglected him shame- 
 fully, giving only one short composition of his the first 
 morning (the worst of all), and the pubHc receiving 
 him without the slightest attention ; this is really dis- 
 graceful in those men who, three years ago, knew 
 nothing better or higher than Neukomm’s music. The 
 only thing he can be reproached with is, that three 
 years since he wrote an oratorio for the Musical Fes- 
 tivtil, where effect was chiefly studied. The huge 
 organ, the choruses, the solo instruments, all were 
 introduced on purpose to please the audience, and peo- 
 ple soon find this out, and it never answers ; but that 
 they should treat him with such ingratitude in return, 
 is a fresh proof of how little their favour is to be 
 
 * A provincial mode of pronouncing “ Birminghain.'” 
 
 11 
 
122 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 relied on, and what the fruits of it are when sought 
 after. 
 
 I found him, as usual, most amiable, and as kind as 
 ever, and may well take example from him in a hun- 
 dred things. I never met with any one who combined 
 greater integrity, with calmness and refinement, and 
 he is indeed a steady, true friend. 
 
 I send you a complete programme of the Musical 
 Festival. Imagine such a mass of music I and, besides 
 this prodigious pile, the various acquaintances who 
 came flocking thither at that time ; a man must be as 
 cold-blooded as a fish to stand all this. Immediately 
 after I had played the last chord on the splendid organ, 
 I hurried off to the Liverpool mail, and travelled six 
 days and five nights in succession, till I arrived in 
 Frankfort to rejoin my family. The mail goes to Lon- 
 don in ten hours and a half, exactly the same distance 
 as between this and Berlin ; I calculated that on my 
 journey, and envied the English on this account. I 
 arrived in London towards midnight, where I was re- 
 ceived by Klingemann, and we went together to the 
 Committee of the Sacred Harmonic Society, who for- 
 mally presented to me a large solid silver box, with an 
 inscription. At half-past twelve o’clock I was again in 
 the mail, and at Dover next morning at nine, when 
 there was no time even for breakfast, as I was obliged 
 to go off directly to the small boat which conveyed us 
 to the steamboat, for being low water it could not re- 
 main in the harbour, so I was already sea-sick when I 
 reached the ship, had a miserable passage, and, instead 
 of arriving at Calais in three hours, we were five hours 
 before landing at Boulogne, and just so much further 
 
FRENCH AND BELGIAN DILIGENCES. 
 
 123 
 
 from Frankfort. I went to the Hotel Meurice, where 
 I made myself as comfortable as I could, and set off at 
 nine at night in the diligence to Lille. This is the mo- 
 ment (however furious Dirichlet may be) to impress on 
 you that French and Belgian diligences, with their 
 glass windows, on a paved chaussee^ with their three 
 clumsy horses in front, whose tails are tied up, and 
 who do not go forwards but slowly creep, are the 
 most utterly detestable means of being expedited in 
 the whole world, and that a G-erman Schnell-post is a 
 hundred times pleasanter, quicker, and better than 
 these utterly detestable, etc., vide supra. The Septem- 
 ber days were being celebrated all over Belgium, and 
 trees of hberty erected in the squares in front of the 
 town-halls. I arrived at Cologne at ten o’clock in the 
 morning ; a steamboat was to sail at eleven, and to go 
 on through the night, so I took my place in it, rejoicing to 
 be able to lie down full length on this the fifth night, 
 and free from the rattle of the pavement. I fell asleep 
 about nine, and did not wake till two in the morning, 
 when I perceived that the steamboat was not moving, 
 and in answer to my questions I was told that the fog 
 was so thick (as on the previous day) that it would be 
 impossible to set off again at all events before six 
 o’clock the same evening, and we should not arrive in 
 Mayence till six at night. The steamer was lying-to 
 quite close to Horchheim, so I hired two sailors to go 
 with me to carry my things ; I showed them the old 
 familiar footpath by the side of the Rhine, got to Co- 
 blenz at three o’clock in the morning, took post-horses, 
 and was at Frankfort on Wednesday afternoon at half 
 past three o’clock. I found them all well, and we havft 
 
124 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 since made out our journey famously, from Thursday 
 afternoon till Sunday at two o’clock, when we arrived 
 here. 
 
 The first subscription concert began at six o’clock 
 the same evening. I directed the “ Jubilee ” overture 
 and the C minor symphony, but the trombones and 
 drums were so noisy that at the end of the concert I 
 own I felt rather caput. These were fourteen of the 
 most crowded days any one could imagine ; but, as I 
 lived so entirely for enjoyment and pleasure the whole 
 of last summer, I am glad, just before my return here, 
 to have had such a busy time, and one so important for 
 my vocation. It is quite too lovely here, and every 
 hour of my new domestic life is like a festival; whereas 
 in England, notwithstanding all its honours and pleas- 
 ures, I had not one single moment of real heartfelt en- 
 joyment; but now every day brings only a succession 
 of joy and happiness, and I once more know what it 
 is to prize fife. Have I not entered into as many 
 minute details about myself as if I were some sickly 
 potentate, dear Mother ? — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Leipzig, October 29th, 1837. 
 
 Dear Brother, 
 
 First of all, my most cordial congratulations on the 
 day when this letter will reach you ; may you pass it 
 happily, and may it prove a good harbinger of the 
 coming year. You mention in your letter of yesterday, 
 
DESIRE FOR REPOSE, 
 
 125 
 
 that your quiet, settled, and untroubled position some- 
 times makes you almost anxious and uneasy; but I 
 cannot think you right in this feeling ; as little as if 
 you were to complain of the very opposite extreme. 
 Why should it not be sufficient for a man to know how 
 to secure and to enjoy his happiness ? I cannot be- 
 lieve that it is at all indispensable first to earn it by 
 trials or misfortunes ; in my opinion, heartfelt grateful 
 acknowledgment is the best Poly crates’ ring; and 
 truly in these days it is a difficult problem to acknovv^- 
 ledge and to enjoy good fortune, and other blessings, 
 in such a manner as to share them with others, thus 
 rendering them cheerful and glad also, and showing, 
 too, that the difference is equally great between this 
 and idle arrogance. It is singular that in my position 
 I might complain of the very reverse of what troubles 
 you ; the more I find what are termed encouragement 
 and recognition in my vocation, the more restless and 
 unsettled does it become in my hands, and I cannot 
 deny that I often long for that rest of which you com- 
 plain. So few traces remain of performances and mu- 
 sical festivals, and all that is personal ; the people in- 
 deed shout and applaud, but that quickly passes away, 
 without leaving a vestige behind, and yet it absorbs as 
 much of one’s fife and strength as better things, or per- 
 haps even more ; and the evil of this is, that it is im- 
 practicable to come half out, when you are once in ; 
 you must either go on the whole way, or not at all. I 
 dare not even attempt to withdraw, or the cause which 
 I have undertaken will suffer, and yet I would gladly 
 see that it was not merely my cause, but considered a 
 good and universal one. But this is the very point 
 11 * 
 
19.6 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 where people are wanting to pursue the same path, — 
 not an approving pubhc (for that is a matter of indiffer- 
 ence), but fellow-workers (and they are indispensable) . 
 So in this sense I long for a less busy life, in order to 
 be able to devote myself to my peculiar province, com- 
 position of music, and to leave the execution of it to 
 others. It seems, however, that this is not to be ; anc 
 I should be ungrateful were I dissatisfied with my lifi 
 as it is. 
 
 Fanny will probably give you to-morrow the parts 
 of my new quartett from me. Whether it will please 
 you or not is uncertain ; but think of me when you 
 play it and come to any passage which is peculiarly in 
 my style. How gladly would I have given you some- 
 thing better and prettier in honour of youT birthday ! 
 but I did not know what to send. 
 
 Yesterday evening my C minor quartett was played 
 in public by David, and had great success. They were 
 made to play the scherzo twice, and the adagio pleased 
 the audience best of all, which caused me very great 
 astonishment. In a few days I mean to begin a new 
 quartett, which may please me better. I also intend 
 soon to compose a sonata for violoncello and piano for 
 you, — by my beard, I will ! 
 
 And now farewell : tiU our happy, happy re eeting id 
 February. — Y our 
 
 Felix. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF ITALY. 
 
 127 
 
 To Ferdinand Hiller, Milan. 
 
 Leipzig, Deceraoer 10th, 1837. 
 
 My dear Ferdinand, 
 
 You have written to me in spite of my want of 
 punctuality last month, for which I am heartily grate- 
 ful, though I really could scarcely have hoped it. The 
 arrangement of a new house, taking possession of it, 
 the numerous concerts and affairs, in short, all the 
 various hindrances, of whatever nature, that a steady- 
 going civilian hke myself can venture to enumerate to 
 a joyous, lively Italian like you, — my installation as 
 master and tenant of the mansion, music director of the 
 subscription concerts, — all these things prevented my 
 being a punctual correspondent last month. But for 
 that very reason I wished to entreat of you, and now 
 do so right heartily, even amid the vast difference in 
 our position, and the objects that surround us, let us 
 steadily adhere to our promise to write monthly letters. 
 I think it would be a source of great interest and bene- 
 fit to both, to hear from each other now, when we 
 must mutually appear so desperately outlandish, — 
 though for this very reason nearer than ever. I at 
 least, when I think of Milan, and Liszt, and Kossini, 
 have a singular feeling in knowing that you are in the 
 midst of them aU; and probably you feel the same, 
 when, in the plains of Lombardy, you think of Leipzig 
 and of me. But next time you must really write me a 
 long minute letter, full of details j you do not know 
 how much they interest me ; you must tell me where 
 you are living, and what you are writing, and all about 
 Liszt, and Pixis, and Rossini ; about the white Duomo 
 
128 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 and the Corso. I do dearly love that bright land, and 
 when you write to me from thence I love it more than 
 ever. You are not to halve your sheet of paper. Above 
 all, tell me if you amuse yourself there as thoroughly 
 and divinely as I did. Do so, I beg, and inhale the air 
 with the same delight, and idle away your days as de- 
 liberately as I did. But why say all this? you are 
 sure to do so at all events. But pray do write me about 
 it at full length. Do you wish to know whether I like 
 this as much as ever ? When I am living as a married 
 man in a pretty, new, comfortable house, with a fine 
 view over gardens and fields, and the towers of the 
 city, and feel so comfortable and happy, so glad and so 
 peaceful, as I have never done since I quitted the 
 parental roof; when, in addition to this, I have good 
 means, and good will on every side, I ask you how I 
 can be otherwise than happy? If I am to hold any 
 situation, this is the best; but there are many days 
 when I think that to have no fixed situation would be 
 best, after all. Directing so perpetually during two 
 such months, takes more out of me than the two years 
 when I was composing all day long. I can scarcely 
 ever compose here in winter, and when I ask myself, 
 after the greatest excitement, what has really occurred, 
 it is in fact scarcely worth naming ; at least it does not 
 interest me much whether the acknowledged good 
 works are given a degree oftener, or a degree better, 
 or not. The only things that interest me are new com- 
 positions, and of these there is a great lack; often 
 therefore I feel as if I should like to retire altogether, 
 and not conduct any longer, but only write ; and yet 
 such a regular musical life, and the duty of directing it, 
 
neukomm’s music. 
 
 129 
 
 has a certain charm too. What care you for this in 
 Milan ? and still I must write it if you wish to know 
 how I like my position here. I felt just the same in 
 Birmingham ; I never made such a decided effect with 
 my music as there, and never saw the public so much 
 or so exclusively occupied with myself individually, 
 and yet there is even in this something — what shall I 
 call it? — fleeting and evanescent, which I find iiksome 
 and depressing, rather than cheering. Would that 
 there had not been an instance of the exact reverse of 
 all these enthusiastic praises, with regard to Neukomm, 
 whom they on this occasion criticized so disdainfully, 
 and received with as much coldness and neglect, in 
 fact set aside as completely, as three years ago they 
 extolled him to the skies, when they placed him above 
 all other composers and applauded him at every step. 
 Of what value, then, is their favour? You wiU, no 
 doubt, say that Neukomm’s music is not worth much, — 
 there we quite agree ; but those who were formerly 
 enchanted with it, and now give themselves such airs, 
 don’t know this. The whole thing made me feel most 
 indignant, while Neukomm’s calm and perfectly in- 
 different demeanour appeared to me the more admirable 
 and dignified, when contrasted with the others, and I 
 like him better than ever since this manly conduct. 
 
130 
 
 Mendelssohn’s lettepwS. 
 
 To Edouard Franck, Breslau. 
 
 {Now Director of the Berne Gonservatorium,) 
 
 Leipzig, January 8th, 1838. 
 
 I did not receive your letter of the 25tli of October 
 till two days ago, and at the same time a splendid copy 
 of your “ Etudes.” I was afraid you had given up thr 
 completion of the work, as it was so long since I had 
 heard anything of it ; I was therefore the more agree- 
 ably surprised by its arrival. You wish me to give 
 you an opinion about the compositions themselves ; bu*c 
 you are well aware how superfluous I consider all such 
 criticisms, whether of my own or of others; to go on 
 working I consider the best and only thing to do, anct 
 when friends urge this af^e' every fresh work, theiv 
 doing so in itself contains a kind of verdict. I believe 
 that no man ever yet succeed/" d in controlling and com- 
 manding the minds of others by one work ; a successioi\ 
 of works all aiming at one point can alone do it. Such 
 then is your function, and the duty which Grod has im- 
 posed on you by the talents he has given you. Fulfil 
 it, then ; I believe that the happiness of life lies entirely 
 on this, and cannot be attained without it, and the 
 omission would be a very great sin. 
 
 Thus the wish that you may go forward on your 
 path, and pursue your labours, is the sole criticism I 
 have at present to send you of your work. 
 
 We have already discussed most of the details; there 
 are no faults, and you are master of your tools ; but 
 continue to use them more and more, as I have already 
 said. 
 
RHENISH MUSICAL FESTIVAL. 
 
 131 
 
 No doubt, you can almost imagine you bear me say- 
 ing all this, and at last I shall appear to you in the 
 light of a lasso ostinato^ who is perpetually growling, 
 and ends by being tiresome beyond measure ; for in- 
 stead of expressing my thanks, I begin the old song all 
 over again, but still I am not deficient in gratitude 
 either, and I wish to tell you so again and again in my 
 very best manner. Write to me soon and at length 
 (or rather by music, which says all things) ; you know 
 what sincere pleasure every letter of yours causes me. 
 Farewell, and once more accept my thanks for the 
 gratification you have bestowed on me, and doubtless 
 on many others, by your first work. — am, with 
 esteem, yours, 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To THE Hon. Committee of this year’s Lower Rhine 
 Musical Festival. 
 
 Leipzig, January 18th, 1838. 
 
 I am deeply grateful for the invitation contained in 
 your letter of the 8th of January. Your kind remem- 
 brance is not less prized by me than the prospect of 
 again attending such a pleasant festival, and deriving 
 from it as much enjoyment as that for which I have al- 
 ready to thank the Rhenish Musical Festivals. I there- 
 fore accept your invitation with sincere delight, if Grod 
 grants health to me and mine, and if we can mutually 
 agree on the selection of the music to the full satisfac- 
 tion of both parties. The more successful the previous 
 
132 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 Cologne festival was with regard to the arrangement of 
 the pieces performed, especially in Handel’s work with 
 the organ, the more important it seems to me to have 
 at least one, piece in the programme by which this 
 year’s festival may be distinguished from others, and 
 by means of which progress may, as far as possible, be 
 manifested. For this purpose I consider it absolutely 
 necessary to have the name of Sebastian Bach in the 
 programme, if only for one short piece ; for it is cer- 
 tainly high time that at these festivals, on which the 
 name of Handel has shed such lustre, another immortal 
 master, who is in no one point inferior to any master, 
 and in many points superior to all, should no longer be 
 forgotten. The same scruples which exist in opposi- 
 tion to this must also have existed in former years with 
 regard to the works of Handel, and you are all grateful 
 to those who, disregarding these obstacles, revealed to 
 you such treasures of sublimity and elevation. Earn 
 for yourself, then, similar thanks from the Ehenish 
 friends of music by making a beginning which is in- 
 deed difficult (for this I do not deny) and must be pro- 
 ceeded with cautiously, but which will certainly be 
 attended with the best results and universally imitated 
 by others. When anything of Bach’s has been once 
 performed, it will be easy to discover that it is beauti- 
 ful, and to perform it again; but the difficulty is the 
 beginning. The proposal that I wish to make to you 
 on this subject is, to introduce into this Musical Festi- 
 val a short Psalm of Bach’s (about twenty minutes or 
 half an hour in length), and if you are afraid of doing 
 this on the second day, from the dread of scaring away 
 the public, whom this learned name might alarm, then 
 
RHENISH MUSICAL FESTIVAL. 
 
 133 
 
 do so on the first day, and give in addition a rather 
 shorter oratorio of Handel’s. It is pretty certain that 
 no fewer people wiU come to hear Handel, for those 
 who do not fear the one will be equally disposed to 
 like the other, and there are still three or four totally 
 unknown and truly admirable oratorios of his, which 
 would not occupy more than an hour and a half, or 
 scarcely two hours at most, and would be a welcome no- 
 velty to all lovers of music. I became first acquainted 
 with these works by the splendid gift of the previous 
 committee,* and I shall be very glad if you can derive 
 any benefit from these volumes for this year’s festival. 
 With regard to the second day, I may first inquire 
 whether you intend to apply to Cherubini for his grand 
 “ Requiem;” it must be translated, and is entirely for 
 men’s voices, but as it will only last an hour, or even 
 less, that would not much matter, and according to the 
 universal verdict it is a splendid work. At present, 
 however, the chief object seems to me to be the first 
 point in this letter, and I therefore beg you will ar- 
 range about it as soon as possible. 
 
 To Rebecca Dirichlet. 
 
 Leipzig, February, 1838. 
 
 ... In our concerts we are playing a great deal of 
 what is called historical music, so in the last but one 
 we had the whole of Bach’s suite in D major, some of 
 
 * See Letter of October 6th, 1835. 
 12 
 
134 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 Handox and Gluck, etc. etc., and a violin concerto of 
 Viotti’s ; in the last of all, Haydn, Eighini, Haurnann, 
 etc. ; and in conclusion Haydn’s “Farewell Symphony,” 
 in which, to the great delight of the public, the musi- 
 cians literally blew out their lights, and went away in 
 succession till the violinists at the first desk alone re- 
 mained, and finished in P sharp major. It is a curious, 
 melancholy little piece. We previously played Haydn’s 
 trio in C major, when all the people were filled with 
 amazement that anything so beautiful should exist; 
 and yet it was very long ago published by Breitkopf 
 and Hartel. The next time we have Mozart, whose C 
 minor concerto I am to play, and we are also to have a 
 quartett of his for the first time from his unfinished 
 opera, “ Zaide.” Then comes Beethoven, and two con- 
 certs remain for every possible kind of modern compo- 
 sition, to make up the full number of twenty. 
 
 Yesterday evening we thought much of you. At a 
 late hour, when I had finished writing, I read aloud 
 “Hausikaa” to Cecile, in Yoss’s translation, repeating 
 to her at the end of every ten verses the profound 
 philological remarks which you made when we used 
 to read it together during our Greek lesson, and which 
 now recurred to me in hundreds. Moreover, this poem 
 is really irresistible when it becomes sentimental. I 
 always felt an inclination to set it to music, of course 
 not for the theatre, only as an epic, and this whole day 
 I feel renewed pleasure in the idea ; but is anything at 
 this moment to be done with German poets? Last 
 week four opera libretti were sent to me, each one more 
 ridiculous than the other ; the only result is to make 
 enemies for myself. I therefore write instrumental 
 
SERENADE AND ALLEGRO GIOJOSO. 135 
 
 music, and long for the unknown poet, who perhaps 
 lives close to me or at Timbuctoo, — who knows ? • . . 
 
 To HIS Family. 
 
 Leipzig, April 2d, 1838. 
 
 . . . This evening Madame Botgorscheck’s concert 
 takes place, — an excellent contralto singer, who perse- 
 cuted me so much to plaj, that I agreed to do so, and 
 it did not occur to me till afterwards that I had nothing 
 either short or suitable to play, so I resolved to com- 
 pose a rondo, not one single note of which was written 
 the day before yesterday, but which I am to perform 
 this evening with the whole orchestra, and rehearsed 
 this morning.* It sounds very gay ; but how I shall 
 play it the gods alone know, — indeed hardly they, for 
 in one passage I have marked a pause of fifteen bars 
 in the accompaniment, and have not as yet the most 
 remote idea what I am to introduce during this time. 
 Any one, however, who plays thus en gros as I do, can 
 get through a good deal. . . . 
 
 To A, SiMROCK, Bonn. 
 
 Berlin, July 10th, 1838. 
 
 In recommencing our correspondence, I must first of 
 all thank you for the great friendliness you showed 
 
 * It appeared afterwards under the title of ‘‘ Serenade and Allegro 
 Giojoso,” Op. 43. 
 
Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 lae 
 
 towards me in Cologne. It is the first time that any 
 publisher ever assured me of his satisfaction at the 
 success of my compositions ; this occurrence would in 
 itself have been a source of lively gratification to me, 
 but it is much enhanced by the kind and flattering 
 manner in which you manifest your satisfaction, and 
 for which I shall ever feel indebted to you. From the 
 time of your first letter about St. Paul,” in which you 
 expressed a wish to have it for your house, when I had 
 not yet thought of publication at all, much less of suc- 
 cess, — also during the period of its being printed, with 
 its manifold alterations and interpolations, up to the pre- 
 sent moment, — you have been cordial and complaisant 
 towards me to a degree which, as I already said, I never 
 before met with, and for which I cordially thank you. 
 
 Would it not be well worth while for any publisher 
 in G-ermany to publish just now some of Handel’s 
 principal oratorios from the original scores ? This ought 
 to be done by subscription, which would, I think, be 
 successful, as not one of these scores exists with us. I 
 thought of composing the organ parts for this purpose ; 
 they must, however, appear in small notes in the score, 
 or in notes of another colour, so that, first, those who 
 wished it could have Handel pure ; second, my organ 
 parts in addition if required, and where there was an 
 organ; and third, in a supplementy the organ part 
 arranged for clarionets, bassoons, and other wind instru- 
 ments of the modern orchestra, when no organ can be 
 had. Such a score would be useful to all institutes for 
 oratorio music, and we should at last have the true 
 Handel in Germany, not one first dipped in the waters 
 of the Moselle and thoroughly diluted. I was assured in 
 
WANT OF NEW MUSIC. 
 
 137 - 
 
 England that a very considerable number of subscribers 
 to such a score might be procured there. What do j^ou 
 think of this ? You have published the pianoforte edi- 
 tions of these oratorios, — ^perhaps a selection might be 
 made from some of them. Of course I am anxious to 
 have your really candid and sincere opinion of this pro- 
 posal, which I only mention to you because it has often 
 suggested itself to me, and recurs to me at this moment. 
 — I am, with sincere esteem, your obedient 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To Ferdinand Hiller. 
 
 Berlin, July 18th, 1838. 
 
 , . The whole condition of music here is connected 
 with the sand, with the situation, and with official life, 
 so that, however much the events taking place in the 
 musical world may please you, you can never really 
 love them. Grluck’s operas are indeed most charming. 
 Is it not remarkable that they always attract a full 
 house, and that the public applaud, and are amused, and 
 shout ? And that this should be the only place in the 
 world where such a thing seems possible ? And that 
 on the next evening the ^‘Postilion” should draw an 
 equally crowded house ? And that in Bavaria it is 
 forbidden to have music in any church, either Catholic 
 or Protestant, because it is supposed to desecrate them ? 
 And that chorales seem to have become indispensable 
 in the theatre ? The chief thing, however, is to have 
 novelty, and plenty of good and fine compositions in the 
 12 *^ 
 
•138 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 world ; thence it is that I am so eagerly expecting your 
 overture and your opera. 
 
 You probably heard that I was at Cologne during the 
 Musical Festival : all went off well. The organ had a 
 fine effect with Handel, and still more so with Sebas- 
 tian Bach (in a newly-discovered composition of his, 
 which you have not yet seen, with a stately double 
 chorus) ; but even there, to my mind at least, new and 
 untried works were wanting to excite interest ; I should 
 like so much to have something doubtful, to furnish 
 both the public and myself with an opportunity of 
 giving an opinion. We all know beforehand what we 
 are to think of Beethoven, Bach, and Handel. This 
 ought to be so, but let us have other things besides. 
 You are quite right in saying that it is better in Italy, 
 where the people insist every year on having new 
 music, and every year a fresh criticism, — -if only the 
 music, and likewise the criticisms, were a shade better I 
 I hear you growl and say, what is better ? WeU, then, 
 more according to my taste, if you will. To be sure, 
 my taste is peculiar, such a possibility sometimes 
 suggests itself to me ; but I must make use of it as it 
 is, in which case I can contrive to swallow as little aa 
 the stork out of the flat dish. . . . 
 
YOUNG MUSICIANS. 
 
 139 
 
 To CONCERTMEISTER EeRDINAND DaVID, LeiPZIG. 
 
 Berlin, July 30th, 1838. 
 
 Bear David, 
 
 Many thanks for your letter, 'which gave nie great 
 pleasure. Since I came here I have been constantly 
 thinking ho'w really delightful it is that we are to meet 
 and live together, instead of your being in one place 
 and I in another, following our avocations without hear- 
 ing much of each other, which is, no doubt, the case 
 with many good fellows in our dear yet rather aggra- 
 vating Fatherland ; but, on reflecting further, I dis- 
 covered that there are not many musicians who, like 
 yourself, pursue steadily the broad straight road in art, 
 or in whose active course I could feel the same intense 
 delight that I do in yours. Such things are seldom 
 said in conversation : therefore let me write, to-day, how 
 much your rapid and welcome development during the 
 last few years has surprised and rejoiced me : it is often 
 grievous to me to see so many with the noblest aspira- 
 tions but inferior talents, and others with great talents 
 yet low tendencies; so that to see true genius com- 
 bined with right good will is doubly cheering. People 
 of the former class swarm here; almost all of the 
 young musicians who visit me may, with few excep- 
 tions, be included in that number. They praise and 
 prize Gluck and Handel, and all that is good, and talk 
 #^bout them perpetually, and yet what they do is an 
 utter failure, and so very tedious. Of the second class 
 there are examples everywhere. As I said, therefore, 
 the very thought of your character rejoices me, and 
 may Heaven permit us to succeed more and more in 
 
140 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 candidly expressing our wishes and our inmost thoughts, 
 and in holding fast all that is dear and sacred in art, so 
 that it shall not perish ! . . . 
 
 No doubt you are preparing many new things for 
 next winter, and I rejoice heartily in the idea of hear- 
 ing them. I have just finished my third quartett in D 
 major, and like it much. May it only please you as 
 well I — I almost think it will, for it is more spirited, 
 and seems to me likely to be more grateful to the 
 players than the others. I intend in a few days to be- 
 gin to write out my symphony, and to complete it in a 
 short time, probably while I am still here. I should 
 also like to write a violin concerto for you next winter. 
 One in E minor runs in my head, the beginning of 
 which gives me no peace. My symphony shall cer- 
 tainly be as good as I can make it, but whether it will 
 be popular and played on the barrel-organs, I cannot 
 tell. I feel that in every fresh piece I succeed better 
 in learning to write exactly what is in my heart, and, 
 after all, that is the only right rule I know. If I am 
 not adapted for popularity, I will not try to acquire it, 
 nor seek after it ; and if you think this wrong, then I 
 ought rather to say I cannot seek after it, for really I 
 cannot, but would not if I could. What proceeds from 
 within, makes me glad in its outward workings also, 
 and therefore it would be very gratifying to me were I 
 able to fulfil the wish you and my friends express ; but 
 I can do nothing towards it or about it. So much ii^ 
 my path has fallen to my share without my having 
 even once thought of it, and without any effort on my 
 part, that perhaps it may be the case with this also ; if 
 not, I shall not grumble on the subject, but console my- 
 
CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 
 
 141 
 
 self by knowing that I did what I could, according to 
 my best powers and my best judgment. I have your 
 sympathy, and your delight in my works, and also that 
 of some valued friends. More could scarcely be de- 
 sired. A thousand thanks, then, for your kind expres- 
 sions and for all your friendship towards me. — Your 
 
 Eelix M. B. 
 
 To Herr Advooat Conrad Sciileinitz, Leipzig. 
 
 Berlin, August 1st, 1838. 
 
 Dear Schleinitz, 
 
 . . . What you write me about your increased busi- 
 ness rejoices me much. You know how often we have 
 talked over the subject, but I cannot share your senti- 
 ment, that any one profession is preferable to another. 
 I always think that whatever an intelligent man gives 
 his heart to, and really understands, must become a 
 noble vocation ; and I only personally dislike those in 
 whom there is nothing personal, and in whom all indi- 
 viduality disappears ; as, for example, the military pro- 
 fession in peace, of which we have instances here. But 
 with regard to the others it is more or less untrue. 
 When one profession is compared with another, the one 
 is .usually taken in its naked reahty, and the other in 
 the most beautiful ideality, and then the decision is 
 quickly made. How easy it is for an artist to feel such 
 reality in his sphere, and yet esteem practical men hap- 
 py who have studied and known the different relations 
 of men towards each other, and who help others to 
 
142 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 live by tbeir own life and progress, and at once see the 
 fruits of all that is tangible, useful, and benevolent in- 
 stituted by them ! In one respect, too, an upright man 
 has the hardest stand to make, in knowing that the 
 public are more attracted by outward show than by 
 truth. But individual failures and strife must not be 
 allowed to have their growth in the heart : there must 
 be something to occupy and to elevate it far above 
 these isolated external things. This speaks strongly in 
 favour of my opinion, for it is the best part of every 
 calling, and common to all, — to yours, to mine, and to 
 every other. Where is it that you find beauty when I 
 am working at a quartett or a symphony ? Merely in 
 that portion of myself that I transfer to it, or can suc- 
 ceed in expressing ; and you can do this in as full a 
 measure as any man, in your defence of a culprit, or in 
 a case of libel, or in any one thing that entirely en- 
 grosses you, and that is the great point. If you can 
 only give utterance to your most inmost thoughts, and 
 if these inmost thoughts become more and more wor- 
 thy of being expressed, ... all the rest is indifferent. 
 I thank you, therefore, for the report you give me of 
 your occupations, and hope you will often send mo 
 equally good tidings. — Your 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
MUSICAL RIVALRY. 
 
 143 
 
 To I. Moscheles, London. 
 
 Leipzig, October 28th, 1838. 
 
 My dear Friend, 
 
 A thousand thanks for your continued friendship 
 towards me, and also for occasionally assuring me of it ; 
 a letter from you cheers me for a long time to come, 
 and what you write of yourself and others is always so 
 fertile, and as much yourself as if I heard you speaking, 
 and were agreeing with you and rejoicing in doing so. 
 If I were a little more mild, and a little more just, and 
 a httle more judicious, and a good many other things 
 a httle more, perhaps I too might then have a judg- 
 ment equal to yours; but I am so soon irritated, and 
 become unreasonable, whereas you love what is good, 
 and yet what is bad appears to you worth amend- 
 ment. 
 
 On the occasion of Clara Novello’s concert, a vast 
 amount of rivalry and bad artistic feeling was brought 
 to the hght of day, which I neither wish to exist by 
 day, nor by night, nor indeed in the world at all. In 
 fact, when really good musicians condescend to depre- 
 ciate each other, and to be malicious, and to sting in 
 secret, I would sooner renounce music altogether, or 
 rather, I should say, musicians ; it is such petty, tinker- 
 ing work, and yet it seems to be the fashion I formerly 
 I thought it was so only with bunglers, but I see it is 
 the same with all. A straightforward character alone 
 is a protection against such an example, and a straight- 
 forward fellow, who despises it. Yet this serves to 
 endear goodness to us still more, and we rejoice doubly 
 in the contrast, and in good art, and in good artists, 
 
144 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. * 
 
 and in letters from you ; and thus the world is by no 
 means so bad, after all. 
 
 To Pastor Julius Sohubring, Dessau. 
 
 ^ -I -I . Leipaig, November 2d, 1838. 
 
 Dear Schubrmg, 
 
 Many, many thanks for your letter, which I received 
 the day before yesterday, and for the parcel, which 
 came to-day. You have again rendered me an essential 
 service, and I feel most grateful to you ; how can you 
 ask whether I wish you to proceed in the same way ? 
 When all is so well put together, I have almost nothing 
 to do but to write music for the words. I ought to 
 have previously told you' that the sheets you took away 
 with you are by no means to be regarded as containing 
 a mature design, but as a mere combination of the 
 materials I had before me for the purpose of eventually 
 forming a plan. So the passage of the widow, and also 
 of the raven, being left out, is decidedly most advisable, 
 and also the whole commencement being abridged, in 
 order that the main points may be dwelt on to one’s 
 heart’s content. I would urgently entreat you to pro- 
 ceed with your work, so far as your time and leisure- 
 will permit, and soon to send me the continuation of 
 the first part, from where you left ojff, and which must 
 now be of considerable length. Rest assured that, as 
 I already told you, you will earn my most sincere 
 gratitude. 
 
 You say that at first you could not make anything 
 
THE WORDS FOR “ELIJAH. 
 
 145 
 
 of tlie subject, but that a sudden light dawned on you, 
 I figured to myself Elijah as a grand, mighty prophet, 
 such as wc might again require in our own day, — ■ 
 energetic and zealous, but also stern, wrathful, and 
 gloomy ; a striking contrast to the Court myrmidons 
 and popular rabble, — in fact, in opposition to the whole 
 world, and yet borne on angels’ wings. Is this the in- 
 ference you drew from the subject, and this the sense 
 in which you conceived an affection for it ? I am anx- 
 ious to do justice to the dramatic element, and, as you 
 say, no epic narrative must be introduced. I am glad 
 to learn that you are searching out the real sense of 
 the Scriptural words, which cannot fail to touch every 
 heart ; but, if I might make one observation, it is that 
 I would fain see the Dramatic Element more prominent, 
 as well as more exuberant and defined, — appeal and 
 rejoinder, question and answer, sudden interruptions, 
 etc. etc. Not that it disturbs me, for example, Elijah 
 first speaking of the assembhng of the people, and then 
 forthwith addressing them. All such liberties are the 
 natural privileges of such a representation in an ora- 
 torio ; but I should like the representation itself to be as 
 spirited as possible ; for instance, it annoys me that Elijah 
 does not reply to Ahab’s words, No. 16 till No. 18, — 
 various other speeches and a chorus intervening. I should 
 like to have had an instant and eager rejoinder, etc. etc. 
 
 But we shall no doubt presently agree on such 
 points, and I would only entreat you, when you resume 
 your work, to think of this wish of mine. Above all, 
 accept my thanks for your kindness, and write to me 
 soon on the same subject. — Ever your 
 
 L3 
 
 Felix M. B. 
 
146 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To HIS Family. 
 
 Leipziii, November 5ih, 1838. 
 
 I have felt unequal to resume the train of my musica. 
 compositions since the measles. You cannot conceive 
 the chaos that accumulates round me, when I am 
 obliged neither to write, nor to go out, for three weeks. 
 At last here I am, correcting the parts of my three 
 violin quartetts which are to appear this winter ; but I 
 never can contrive to complete them, owing to so many 
 letters, and affairs, and other odiosa. The Shaws are 
 here, who don’t know one word of Glerman, and not 
 many words of French, and yet they live with thorough, 
 downright Leipzigers, who only speak their Leipzig 
 vernacular; and Bennett, with two young English 
 musicians, and six new symphonies, and letters, and 
 passing strangers, and rehearsals, and Heaven knows 
 what all the other things are, which swallow up the 
 day, leaving no more trace than if it had never- existed. 
 Truly the most delightful of all things is to be enabled 
 to store up precious and enduring memorials of past 
 days, to tell that these days were ; and the most hate- 
 M of all things is, when time passes on, and we pass 
 with it, and yet grasp nothing. 
 
 I am reading Lessing just now frequently, with true 
 enjoyment and gratitude. At the end of the most fa- 
 tiguing day, this famous fellow makes me feel quite 
 fresh again ; though Germany fares rather badly when 
 you read his letters to his grandfather, or to Kicolai, 
 Gleim, and Eckert ; and yet Lessing wrote in German, 
 and in such German, too, that it cannot be well trans- 
 lated 1 
 
ms OPINION OF PIETISM. 
 
 147 
 
 To Professor Schirmer, Dusseldorf. 
 
 {Now Director of the Carlsruhe Academy^ 
 
 Berlin, November 21st, 1838. 
 
 So I am said to be a saint ! If this is intended to 
 convey what I conceive to be the meaning of the word, 
 and what your expressions lead me to think you also 
 understand by it, then I can only say that, alas I I am 
 not so, though every day of my life I strive with 
 greater earnestness, according to my ability, more and 
 more to resemble this character. I know” indeed that 
 I can never hope to be altogether a saint, but if I ever 
 approach to one, it will be well. If people, however, 
 understand by the word “saint” a Pietist, one of those 
 who lay their hands on their laps and expect that Pro- 
 vidence will do their work for them, and who, instead 
 of striving in their vocation to press on towards per- 
 fection, talk of a heavenly calling being incompatible 
 with an earthly one, and are incapable of loving with 
 their whole hearts any human being, or anything on 
 earth, — then God be praised I such a one I am not, and 
 hope never to become, so long as I live ; and though I 
 am sincerely desirous to live piously, and really to be 
 so, I hope this does not necessarily entail the other 
 character. It is singular that people should select pre- 
 cisely this time to say such a thing, when I am in the 
 enjoyment of so much happiness, both through my 
 inner and outer life, and my new domestic ties, as well 
 as .busy work, that I really never knowhow sufficiently 
 to show my thankfulness. And, as you wish me to 
 follow the path which leads to rest and peace, believe 
 
148 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 me, I never expected to live in the rest and peace 
 which have now fallen to my lot. I offer you a thousand 
 thanks for your good wishes, and beg you not to be 
 uneasy on either of these points. 
 
 It is pleasant to learn what you write to me of your- 
 self and your works, and that you also are persuaded 
 that what people usually call honour and fame are but 
 doubtful advantages, while another species of honour, 
 of a more elevated and spiritual nature, is as essential 
 as it is rare. The truth of this is best seen in the case 
 of those who possess all possible worldly distinctions, 
 without deriving from them one moment of real 
 pleasure, but only causing them the more greedily to 
 crave after them ; and this fact was first made quite 
 evident to me in Paris. I rejoice that you are not one 
 of those who speak in a contemptuous strain of French 
 painters, for I have always received great pleasure 
 from the good ones of the present day, and I cannot 
 believe in the sincerity of those persons who, at sight 
 of one of your pictures, fall into ecstasies, and yet pre- 
 sume from the height of their throne to look down on 
 one of Horace Yernet’s. What I mean is, that if one 
 beautiful object pleases the eye, another cannot fail also 
 to inspire sympathy ; at least, so it is with myself. 
 
 To Pastor Julius Schubring, Dessau. 
 
 Leipzig, December 6th, 1838. 
 
 Dear Schubring, 
 
 Along with this you will receive the organ pieces 
 and “ Bonifacius,” which I also enclose. Thank you 
 
SUBJECTS FOR ORATORIOS. 
 
 149 
 
 much for the latter, and for the manuscripts you have 
 from time to time sent me for “Elijah; ” they are of 
 the greatest possible use to me, and though I may here 
 and there make some alterations, still the whole affair, 
 by your aid, is now placed on a much firmer footing. 
 With regard to the dramatic element, there still seems 
 to be a diversity of opinion between us. In such a 
 character as that of Ehjah, like every one in the Old 
 Testament, except perhaps Moses, it appears to me 
 that the dramatic should predominate, — the personages 
 should be introduced as acting and speaking with fer- 
 vour ; not, however, for Heaven’s sake, to become mere 
 musical pictures, but inhabitants of a positive, practical 
 world, such as Ave see in every chapter of the Old 
 Testament ; and the contemplative and pathetic element 
 which you desire must be entirely conveyed to our 
 apprehension by the words and the mood of the acting 
 personages. 
 
 In your “Bonifacius,” for instance, this was a point 
 to which I was by no means reconciled ; in my opinion 
 he ought to have been treated dramatically throughout, 
 like a theatrical representation (in its best sense) only 
 without visible action. The Scriptural allusions, too, 
 should, according to my idea, be more sparingly intro- 
 duced, and placed in his mouth alone. The contrast 
 between this style of language (Avhich pervades the 
 whole) and that at the coronation is not sufi&ciently 
 equalized. Pepin, and all the pagans, and pagan priests, 
 flit before me hke shadows or misty forms, whereas, to 
 satisfy me, they must be solid, robust men. Do not be 
 displeased that I send you a bit of criticism along with 
 my thanks, for such is my insufferable custom. Be- 
 13 * 
 
150 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 sides, a cold and cough make me unusually rabid to- 
 day. I am now about to set to work on the Elijah,” 
 and to plough away at the soil as best I can ; if I do 
 not get on with it, you must come to my aid, and, I 
 hope, as kindly as ever, and preserve the same regard 
 for youi 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To A. SiMROCK, Bonn. 
 
 Leipzig, March 4th, 1839, 
 
 The manuscripts which I ought to have sent you 
 last year are not yet finished ; I wished to make them 
 as perfect as I could ; but for this both leisure and good 
 humour were requisite, and during the period of con- 
 stant concerts these too often failed. Now I hope 
 shortly to complete the pieces, and thus free myself 
 from debt. 
 
 But they are not “songs without words,” for I have 
 no intention of writing any more of that sort, let the 
 Hamburgers say what they will I If there were too 
 many such animahula between heaven and earth, at 
 last no one would care about them ; and there really is 
 quite a mass of piano music composed now in a similar 
 style ; another chord should be struck, I say. — I am, 
 with entire esteem, your obedient 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, 
 
151 
 
 OYERTUKE TO “ RUY BLAS.” 
 
 To ms Mother. 
 
 Leipzig, March 18th, 1839. 
 
 You wished to know how the overture to “ Euy 
 Bias ” went off. Famously. Six or eight weeks since 
 an application was made to me in favour of a repre- 
 sentation to be given for the Theatrical Pension Fund 
 (an excellent benevolent institution here, for the bene- 
 fit of which Euy Bias ” was to be given). I was re- 
 quested to compose an overture for it, and the music 
 of the romance in the piece, for it was thought the re- 
 ceipts would be better if my name appeared in the 
 bills. I read the piece, which is detestable, and more 
 utterly beneath contempt than you could believe, and 
 said that I had no leisure to write the overture, but I 
 composed the romance for them. The performance 
 was to take place last Monday week ; on the previous 
 Tuesday the people came to thank me pohtely for the 
 romance, and said it was such a pity I had not also 
 written an overture, but they were perfectly aware 
 that time was indispensable for such a work, and the 
 ensuing year, if I would permit them, they would give 
 me longer previous notice. This put me on my mettle. 
 I reflected on the matter the same evening, and began 
 my score. On Wednesday there was a concert re- 
 hearsal, which occupied the whole forenoon. Thursday 
 the concert itself, yet the overture w^as in the hands of 
 the copyist early on Friday ; played three times on 
 Monday in the concert room, tried : over, once in the 
 theatre, and given in the evening as an introduction, to 
 the odious play. Few of my works have cansed me 
 more amusing excitement. It is to be repeated, by 
 
162 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 desire, at the next concert, but I mean to call it, not 
 the overture to “ Euy Bias,” but to the Theatrical Pen- 
 sion Fund. 
 
 To Fanny Hensel, Berlin. 
 
 Frankfort, June 18th, 1839. 
 
 Dear Fanny, 
 
 Give me your best advice! The eccentric Capell- 
 meister Guhr is become my particular friend, and we 
 are quite inseparable. Lately we were in a pleasant 
 cordial mood, and I was eagerly questioning him about 
 his extensive and rare collection of Bach’s works, 
 among which are two autographs, the choral preludes 
 for the organ, and the Passecaille,” with a grand 
 fugue at the end of it, — 
 
 when he suddenly said, I’ll tell you what, you shall 
 have one of these autographs ; I will make you a pre- 
 sent of it, for you take as great delight in them as I 
 do; choose which you prefer, — the preludes or the 
 ‘ PassecaiUe.’ ” This was really no trifling gift, for I 
 know that he has been offered a considerable sum of 
 money for these pieces, but he refused to part with 
 them, and I would myself have paid a good price for 
 them had they been for sale, and now he freely gives 
 me one ; but the question is, which shall I take ? I 
 have by far the strongest inclination for the preludes, 
 
OAPELLMEISTER GUHR. 
 
 153 
 
 because they begin with the “Altes Jahr, because 
 they include other great favourites of mine, and be- 
 cause the “ Passecaille ” and the fugue are already pub- 
 lished. But you must also have a voice in the matter, 
 for you will feel no common interest in it. So send 
 me your vote. Cantor ! 
 
 Is not G-uhr a most singular being ? and yet I can 
 get on better with him than with any other of the 
 Frankfort musicians. He enjoys life, and hves and lets 
 live, but is sharp enough as a director, and beats com- 
 mon time so distinctly that they cannot fail to play to 
 it, as if they were in arm-chairs ; and my other col- 
 leagues here are so desperately melanclioly, and always 
 talking of musical critiques, and recognition, and flat- 
 tering testimonials, and constantly thinking about 
 themselves, and constantly fishing for compliments 
 (but these compliments must be genuine; they even 
 aspire to outpourings of the heart!). This is both 
 provoking and sad; and yet (behind people’s backs) 
 they can play as mad pranks as any one. Much as I 
 like Frankfort for a summer visit, I do not wish to be 
 settled here as a musician, owing to aU the above rea- 
 sons, and many others besides. 
 
 At the concert of the St. Cecilia Association, where 
 I had an opportunity of fairly estimating their musical 
 organization, I felt quite melancholy at the difference 
 between our sense of music in Leipzig and what was 
 given here ; for though it goes on very fairly, and 
 sometimes sounds well, still, as a rule, it seems as if 
 they were playing from sheer weariness, or from com- 
 pulsion, and vastly little of that zeal and love are ap- 
 parent in the orchestra which so often prevails among 
 
154 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letxeus. 
 
 us. In fact, when I compare the whole elements of 
 the orchestra here with ours at Leipzig, I feel just as I 
 did when I returned from Diisseldorf and thought my- 
 self in Paradise. The St. Ceciha j^.ssociation, too, has 
 deteriorated, which is not the fault of one person or 
 another, but of aU combined, for the _ soil here is far 
 from being favourable to music, though ;all the better 
 for apples and cherries and wine, and other good things. 
 I wish you could see the Sachsenhausen hill at this 
 moment, with all its ripe cherries and blooming vines ! 
 Moreover, there are many dcHghtful people here,, and 
 some among them genuinely musical. For painting 
 much is done, and it seems to be making real progress. 
 This is a very different hfe from what it was three or 
 four years ago when I was here, and found everything 
 disorganized by discord and strife. 
 
 A tolerably good, though not very extensive, exhibi- 
 tion of paintings is just closed, which contained some 
 admirable and many very pretty things. This change 
 of tune and subject brings us back to Hensel. When 
 does he go to England ? when does he return ? does 
 he take any pictures with him ? and what may they 
 be? are you going to Italy? do I know anything of 
 anything ? I am writing a trip (the first part is finish- 
 ed), a sonata for the viohn (ditto)j a symphony (not 
 ditto), and a letter to you (which is now quite finished). 
 But when will you write to me ? — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
DIARY. 
 
 155 
 
 To Carl Klingemann, London. 
 
 Hochheim, near Coblenz, August Ist, 1839. 
 
 Mj dearest Friend, 
 
 I earnestly hope that you may fulfil your intention 
 of visiting us late in the autumn. The time seems tc 
 me endless till you become acquainted with my wife ; 
 besides, it is indeed very long since you and I have 
 conversed in the unreserved confidence of home. When 
 I was in England, two years ago, my wife kept a 
 small diary, which she began after our marriage, and 
 every day during my stay in England she left a blank 
 space in its pages, that I might write the record of my 
 days opposite to hers. For some time past I have ac- 
 customed myself to do this, and entered every detail 
 minutely into the httle green book4(you ought to know 
 it, for you gave it to me in 1832), — the date of Eosen’s 
 death, that of my visit to Birmingham, etc. Now I 
 have arrived exactly at the anniversary, and my diary 
 clearly shows me how much I was then out of sorts, 
 and very different from what I ought to have been. 
 The constant publicity, the grand scale of things on 
 every side, in fact, everything around me, attracted me 
 less than formerly, and made me feel bewildered and 
 irritable. May we therefore soon meet in G-ermany ! 
 You certainly would not enjoy yourself less here after 
 England, and I do delight in this beautiful country. 
 The summer months I recently passed in Frankfort 
 have thoroughly refreshed me ; in the morning I work- 
 ed, then bathed or sketched ; in the afternoon I played 
 the organ or the piano, and afterwards rambled in the 
 forest, then into society, or home, where I always 
 
156 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 found the most charming of all society : this was the 
 mode in which my life was agreeably spent, and you 
 must add to all this the glorious summer days which 
 followed each other in uninterrupted succession. 
 
 We have now been here nearly a fortnight, and three 
 or four days hence we intend to go up the Rhine, back 
 to Frankfort, and return to Leipzig about the middle of 
 
 the month. Your wish to have X in London 
 
 (though very natural, I admit) is one in which we do 
 not at all agree, and yet my reasons are by no means 
 egotistical, — quite the reverse. I am convinced that it 
 would not be for his benefit were he to assume a posi- 
 tion in the world which would oblige him to take an 
 interest in so many things, not only foreign to art, but 
 actually adverse to it. A certain number of guineas 
 might accrue to him, but no real gain, either for his 
 happiness or his progress in art. Formerly I used posi- 
 tively to hate all speculators in art, but now I feel 
 chiefly compassion for them, because I see so few who 
 are at rest ; it is a never-ending strife for money and 
 fame, and the most superior talents, as well as inferior 
 
 ones, join in it. Highly as I esteem X , I am by 
 
 no means sure that he would not make shipwreck on 
 this rock, and, even if he did not lose the brightest 
 part of his genius, he would certainly have to deplore 
 the best part of his life and happiness ; and, after all, 
 for what ? The reformation and improvement of indi- 
 vidual cities, even were they as important as ])ondon, 
 is in fact either impossible or indiflerent ; but if a man 
 only strives thoroughly to perfect own being, and 
 to purify himself by degrees from all dross, in acting 
 thus he is working for all cities alike ; and if he does 
 
NEW MUSIC. 
 
 157 
 
 so even in a village, his labours are certain to make 
 their way into the world, and there to exercise their 
 
 due influence. I would rather, therefore, that X 
 
 remained in Germany wherever music is most appre- 
 ciated; but you must not ask me where that is, — 
 whether at Frankfort or Vienna ; but it lies in the air, 
 no doubt : therefore I shall always advise his not leaving 
 Germany. 
 
 Planche’s work gets on very slowly, and possibly I 
 may have a new oratorio ready before his text is com- 
 pleted. The number of friends that St. Paul” has 
 gained me is really quite remarkable. I could never 
 have anticipated it. It was performed twice at Vienna 
 in the spring, and they want to have a festival there 
 in November, with one thousand performers St. Paul” 
 is to be given), which I shall probably go to conduct. 
 This has surprised me the more, because no other work 
 of mine has ever made its way into Vienna. I must 
 be in Brunswick for the Musical Festival the end of 
 this month, in order to conduct “St. Paul;” and it is 
 always a source of twofold pleasure to me when I have 
 no personal acquaintances in a place, which will be the 
 case there. 
 
 My new pieces are a trio, completed for piano, violin, 
 and violoncello, in D minor ; a book of four-part songs, 
 to be sung in the open air ; some songs for one voice, 
 organ fugues, half a Psalm, etc. I mean to continue 
 the four-part songs, and have thought a good deal 
 about the capabilities of this style ; and it does seem 
 the most natural of all music when four people are 
 rambling together in the woods, or sailing in a boat, and 
 have the melody all ready with them and within them. 
 14 
 
158 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 In quartetts for male voices alone, both for musical and 
 other reasons, there is something prosaic in the four 
 male voices, which has always been perceptible ; whereas 
 in those I allude to, the combination of male and female 
 voices will sound more poetical, and this will, I hope, 
 also be perceptible. 
 
 Do send me a song or two, to sing in autumn, or, 
 better still, in summer, or in spring, or on the water, 
 on the grass, or on a bridge, or in the woods, or in the 
 garden ; to the stork, or to a kind Providence, or to the 
 people of the cities and plains, or for a dance, or a wed- 
 ding, or as a souvenir. It might be a popular romance I 
 
 I should like much to hear your sentiments about the 
 events in your Fatherland ;* they interest me more 
 than you perhaps imagine. Be sure you come to us 
 the end of autumn I Cecilia says your room is ready, 
 and sends you her remembrances. — I am always yours, 
 
 Felix M. B. 
 
 To HIS Mother. 
 
 Frankfort, July 3d, 1839. 
 
 We are leading the most agreeable, happy life ima- 
 ginable here. I am therefore resolved not to go away 
 till obliged to do so, and to give myself up entirely for 
 the present to a sense of comfort and pleasure. The 
 most delightful thing I ever saw in society was a fete 
 in the forest here ; I really must tell you all about it, 
 
 * Hanover. 
 
A FOREST FETE. 
 
 159 
 
 because it was unique of its kind. Within a quarter 
 of an hour^s drive from the road, deep in the forest 
 where lofly spreading beech-trees stand in solitary 
 grandeur, forming an impenetrable canopy above, and 
 where all around nothing was to be seen but green 
 foliage glistening through innumerable trunks of trees, 
 — this was the locality. We made our way through 
 the thick underwood, by a narrow footpath, to the spot, 
 where, on arriving, a number of white figures were 
 visible in the distance, under a group of trees, encircled 
 with massive garlands of flowers, which formed the 
 concert-room. How lovely the voices sounded, and 
 how brilliantly the soprano tones vibrated in the air ! 
 what charm and melting sweetness pervaded every 
 strain ! All was so still and retired, and yet so bright ! 
 I had formed no conception (S* such an effect. The 
 choir consisted of about twenty good voices ; during 
 the previous rehearsal in a room, there had been some 
 deficiencies, and want of steadiness. Towards evening, 
 however, when they stood under the trees, and uphfting 
 their voices gave my first song, “Ihr Yoglein in den 
 Zweigen schwank,” it was so enchanting in the silence 
 of the woods, that it almost brought tears to my eyes. 
 
 It sounded like genuine poetry. The scene, too, was 
 so beautiful ; all the pretty female figures in white, and 
 
 Herr B standing in the centre, beating time in his 
 
 shirt-sleeves, and the audience seated on camp-stools, 
 or hampers, or lying on the moss. They sang through 
 the whole book, and then three new songs which I had 
 composed for the occasion. The third Lerchenge- 
 sang”) was rather exultingly shouted than* sung, and 
 repeated three times, while in the interim strawberries. 
 
160 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 cherries, and oranges were served on the most delicate 
 china, and quantities of ice and wine and raspberry 
 syrup carried round. People were emerging in every 
 direction out of the thicket, attracted from a distance 
 by the sound of the music, and they stretched them- 
 selves on the ground and listened. 
 
 As it grew dark, great lanterns and torches were set 
 up in the middle of the choir, and they sang songs by 
 Schelble and Hiller, and Schnyder, and Weber. Pre- 
 sently a large table, profusely decorated with flowers 
 and brilliantly lighted, was brought forward, on which 
 was an excellent supper with all sorts of good dishes 
 and wines ; and it was most quiet, withal, and lonely 
 in the wood, the nearest house being at the distance 
 of at least an hour, and the gigantic trunks of the trees 
 looking every moment more dark and stern, and the 
 people under their branches more noisy and jovial. 
 After supper they began again with the first song, and 
 sang through the whole six, and then the three new 
 ones, and the “ Lerchengesang” once more three times 
 over. At length it was time to go ; in the thicket we 
 met the wagon in which all the china and plate was 
 to be taken back to the town ; it could not stir from 
 the spot, nor could we either, but we contrived to get 
 on at last, and arrived about midnight at our homes in 
 Frankfort. The donors of the fete were detained in the 
 forest till two o’clock, packing up everything, and lost 
 their way along with the large wagon, finding them- 
 selves unexpectedly at Isenburg ; so they did not get 
 home till long afterwards. There were three families 
 who had the merit of this idea, and whom we have to 
 thank for tliis memorable /e/e. Two of these we were 
 
MUSICAu ENTERTAINMENT. 
 
 161 
 
 not at all acquainted with, and the third only slightly. 
 I know now how songs ought to sound in the open ah', 
 and hope shortly to compose a gay book of them. 
 
 It must be tiresome enough for you to read descrip- 
 tions of fetes long past, and indeed such descriptions 
 are of no great interest even to those who were pre- 
 sent, but far more trying to those who were not ; and 
 yet I cannot resist telling you also of an entertainment 
 given by Herr E , which took place last week, be- 
 
 cause I know you rejoice in any marks of honour 
 bestowed on me, and this was indeed a very great one. 
 We were invited, along with many whom we knew 
 and some whom we did not know, chiefly members of 
 the St Cecilia Association. First, we had some music, 
 and played and sang ; then the door of a dark room 
 was thrown open, and from an opposite direction re- 
 sounded my overture to the ‘^Midsummer Night’s 
 Dream.” While it was being played, a curtain drew 
 up, and displayed a most charming tableau, Titania 
 sleeping in a flower ; hovering over her was Cobweb 
 spreading out the curtain, Peaseblossom fanning her, 
 Moth, and the others, — all represented by lovely young 
 girls; and a whole succession of tableaux followed, 
 accompanied by my music. The second was a G-erman 
 girl of the olden time in her chamber, while her lover, 
 in rain and snow, was singing under her window, 
 “Leucht’t heller als die Sonne,” which seemed to 
 please her uncommonly. This was succeeded by an 
 
 Ave ” for eight voices, with the Angel, bearing a lily 
 in his hand, appearing to the kneeling Mary. Then 
 came a beautiful Zuleika, in a Persian apartment, who, 
 without changing her attitude, sang my song in E minor 
 14 * 
 
162 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 very sweetly and prettily. This was followed by a 
 masterpiece — Spanish peasants’ nuptials, — three hand- 
 some couples of lovers dancing, admirably costumed 
 and placed, and behind them a pathetic Don Quixote, 
 when the little chorus in C, ‘‘Nun ziindet an,” was 
 appropriately sung. Next came a youth with a small 
 neckcloth and a large shirt-collar, in a vineyard with a 
 sketch-book, and he sang “1st es wahr?” and mo^^t 
 charmingly he sang it. Seventhly (for I am now fall- 
 ing into the catalogue style), a chapel, with a handsome 
 Grothic (mock) organ, at which was seated a nun, with 
 two others standing by her, who sang from the printed 
 music “ Beati omnes,” the choir responding behind the 
 scenes. Eighthly, two girls at a well, singing by heart, 
 in ihe most enchanting manner, my duett, “ Ich woUt’, 
 meine Liebe,” having contrived, under some pretext, 
 to get the music transcribed. Ninthly, St. Paul on the 
 ground, his escort in alarm, and a chorus of women 
 singing behind the scenes. Tenth and last, before the 
 curtain was drawn up, “ As the hart panteth after the 
 waterbrooks” was sung, while I was wondering how 
 they would manage to represent the panting of the 
 hart, and who was to attempt it. But now comesvsome- 
 thing more especially for you. Mother. They had 
 dressed S , who is thought to resemble me, to per- 
 
 sonate myself; and there he was, sitting in an inspired 
 attitude, writing music, and chewing away at his hand- 
 kerchief,* and by his side a lovely St. Ceciha with a 
 wreath. Now, Mother, I hope you will no longer call 
 me the “reverse of a charlatan;” for my describing aU 
 
 ♦ A habit of Mendelssohn’s. 
 
bach’s music. 
 
 163 
 
 this myself, without the ink turning red for shame, is 
 really a strong measure ! 
 
 As I am in a boasting mood, I may as well tell you 
 at once that I have proposals from two musical fes- 
 tivals for 1840. And now enough of myself and my 
 braggadocio. I have, however, been very busy here, 
 and have completed a pianoforte trio, five four-part 
 songs for the open air, and three fugues for the organ, 
 as well as commenced many others. I have practised 
 the organ so steadily, that on my return to Leipzig I 
 purpose giving an organ concert there, and I think that 
 my pedal playing is now very tolerable. 
 
 Dear Fanny ! I beg that among the six great organ 
 preludes and fugues of Bach, published by Kiedl, you 
 will look at the fugue No. 3, in C m^tjor. Formerly I 
 did not care much about them, they are in a very 
 simple style; but observe particularly the four last 
 bars ; natural and simple as they are, I feel quite in 
 love with them, and played them over at least fifty 
 times yesterday. How the left hand glides and turns, 
 and how gently it dies away towards the close ! It 
 pleased me beyond all measure. 
 
 To Fanny Hensel, Berlin.* 
 
 Leipzig, September 14th, 1839. 
 
 Dear Fanny, 
 
 Wishing to note down a great many things for your 
 benefit, I examined my diaries, but found very httle in 
 
 * Just before his sister’s journey to Italy. 
 
164 : 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 them, and say to myself, “ Hensel will show her and 
 tell all this a hundred times better than I can.” 
 
 So only with a view to perform my promise : — 
 
 Isola Bella . — Place yourself on the very highest point, 
 and look right and left, before and behind you, — the 
 whole of the island and the whole of the lake are at 
 your feet. 
 
 Venice . — Do not forget Casa Pisani, with its Paul 
 Veronese, and the Manfrini Grallery, with its marvellous 
 Cithern Player ” by Giorgione, and a ditto, Entomb- 
 ment,” by Titian (Hensel laughs at me). Compose 
 something in honour of the Cithern Player; ” I did so. 
 When you see the “Assumption of the Virgin,” think 
 of me. Observe how dark the head of Mary, — and in- 
 deed her whole figure stands out against the bright 
 sky ; the head looks quite brown, and there is an 
 ineffable expression of enthusiasm and overflowing 
 felicity, that no one could believe without having ac- 
 tually seen it. If you don’t think of me, too, at sight 
 of the golden glory of the sky behind Mary, — then 
 there is an end of all things ! Likewise two certain 
 Cherubs’ heads, from which an ox might learn what 
 true beauty is; and if the “Presentation of Mary,” and 
 the woman selling eggs underneath, do not please you, 
 — ^then call me a blockhead ! Think of Goethe when 
 you see the Lions in front of the Arsenal : “ Stehen 
 zwei altgriechische Lowen,” etc. Sail in a gondola at 
 night, meeting other black gondolas hurrying along. 
 If you don’t then think of all sorts of love-stories, and 
 other things which might occur within them while they 
 glide by so quickly, — then am I a dolt ! 
 
 Florence . — The following are among my notes on the 
 
NOTES ON ITALY. 
 
 1G5 
 
 portrait-gallery (see if you find them true, and write 
 to me on the subject) : — 
 
 Comparison between the head and its production, 
 between the man’s work and his exterior, — the artist 
 and his portrait. Titian, vigorous and royal; Domeni- 
 chino, precise, bright, very astute, and buoyant; Guido, 
 pale, dignified, masterly, keen ; Lanfranco, a grotesque 
 mask ; Leonello Spada, a good-natured fanfaron and a 
 reveller ; Annibale Carracci, peeping and prying ; the 
 two Caraccis, like the members of a guild ; Caravaggio, 
 rather commonplace and cat-like ; Guercino, handsome 
 and affected, melancholy and dark; Bellini the red- 
 haired, the stern, old-fashioned teacher; Giorgione, 
 chivalrous, fantastic, serene, and clear ; Leonardo da 
 Yinci, the lion; in the middle, the fragile, heavenly 
 Eaphael, and over him Michael Angelo, ugly, vigorous, 
 malignant ; Carlo Dolce, a coxcomb ; Gerard Dow, a 
 mere appendage among his kitchen utensils,” etc. etc. 
 
 In the large gallery to the left of the tribune, look at 
 a little picture by Fra Bartolommeo, scarcely larger 
 than this sheet of paper, but with two doors, all so 
 neatly and carefully painted and finished. When you 
 enter the gallery, salute first the busts of the Medici, 
 for they were its founders. In the tribune there are 
 some good things. Do not fail to see aU the painted 
 churches, which are quite beyond belief, — ^Maria hTo- 
 vella, St. Annunziata (you must see Andrea del Sarto 
 there ; remark also Fra Bartolommeo falling backwards 
 down-stairs from terror, because the angel has already 
 ^ been painting on his canvas). Examine also this said 
 angel’s painting in the “Annunciation ” of Fra Barto- 
 lommeo ; it is very fine (Hensel laughs). 
 
166 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 To St. Marco, the Academy, etc. etc. 
 
 If the site of Brunelli’s statue, near the Duomo, does 
 not please you, I can’t help you. The Duomo itself is 
 not bad. Walk about a great deal. 
 
 Milan. — Don’t fail to go to the top of the cathedral, 
 on account of the rnillions of pinnacles, and the splendid 
 view. 
 
 Genoa. — It is pleasant to be in the Yilletta Negri at 
 nightfall. 
 
 Betwixt Genoa and Florence^ see everything. Do not 
 miss visiting the church of St. Francesco in Assisi, on 
 any account whatever. The same with regard to all 
 Perugia. 
 
 Drink a flask of aleatico in Florence, and add another 
 of vino santo. 
 
 Borne. — Holy week ; be as weary as you please du- 
 ring the whole chanting of the Psalms, it’s no matter, 
 but listen carefully when they intone the last “ Dene- 
 dictus Dominus Israel,” — all four voices unisono fortis^ 
 simo in D minor : it sounds very grand. Observe the 
 strange modulations produced by chance, when one 
 unmusical priest after another takes the book and 
 sings ; the one finishing in D major, and the other 
 commencing in B flat minor. Above aU, see and hear 
 everything in the Sistine Chapel, and write some melo- 
 dies, or something, from thence to your F. M. B. Grreet 
 old Santini. Feast your eyes on the brilliant aspect of 
 the chapel on Palm Sunday, when all the Cardinals are 
 robed and carry palms, and when the procession with the 
 singers arrives. The “ Improperia,” on Good Friday,^ 
 in B flat major, are very fine. Notice when the old 
 Cardinal sings the “ Credo ” the first day of Easter, 
 
NOTES ON ITALY. 
 
 167 
 
 and all the bells ring out, and the ceremony becomes 
 all alive once more, with cannon-shots, etc. etc. Drive 
 to the Grotta ferrata^ it is really quite too lovely, and 
 all painted by Domenichmo. Don’t forget the echo 
 near Cecilia Metella. The tower stands to the left of 
 the road. In the same direction, about fifty yards 
 further, among some old ruined walls and stones, there 
 is the most perfect echo I ever chanced to meet with 
 in my hfe ; it seems as if it never would cease muttering 
 and murmuring. It begins in a slight degree, close 
 behind the tower, but the further you proceed, the 
 more mystical it becomes. You must try to find the 
 right spot. Learn to distinguish between the different 
 orders of monks. 
 
 Naples . — When there is a storm at Chiatamone, and 
 the gray sea is foaming, think of me. Don’t fail to 
 live close to the sea. I lived at Santi Combi, Santa 
 Lucia (I think Ho. 13), it was most lovely there. Be 
 sure you go from Castellamare to Amalfi, over Mount 
 St. Angelo. It is the chief highway of all Italy. 
 Proceed from Amalfi to Atrani, and see the church 
 there, and then view the whole glorious landscape from 
 above. Hever get overheated. And never fly into a 
 passion. And never be so dehghted as to agitate your- 
 self Be wonderfully haughty and stately ; all the 
 beauty is there for you only. 
 
 Eat, as a salad, brocoli with ham, and write to me if 
 It is not capital. So far my good advice. Enough for 
 to-day. Farewell, dearest Fanny, and dear Hensel 
 family all. We think of you daily and hourly, and 
 rejoice in your good fortune and in your enjoyment. 
 
 Felix. 
 
168 
 
 MENDELSSOHN^S LETTERS. 
 
 To Professor Naumann, Bonn. 
 
 Leipzig, September 19th, 1839. 
 
 Sir. 
 
 Pray accept my thanks for the great proof of confi- 
 dence you show me, by the purport of your esteemed 
 letter of the 12th of this month. Believe me, I 
 thoroughly appreciate it, and can indeed feel how impor- 
 tant to you must be the development and future destiny 
 of a child so beloved and so talented. My sole wish is, 
 like your own, that those steps should be taken, best 
 calculated to reward his assiduity and to cultivate his 
 talents. As an artist, I consider this to be my duty^ 
 but in this case it would cause me peculiar pleasure, 
 from its recalling an early and happy period of my life. 
 
 But I should unworthily respond to your confidence, 
 did I not communicate frankly to you the many and 
 great scruples which prevent my immediately accepting 
 your proposal. In the first place, I am convinced, from 
 repeated experience, that I am totally deficient in the 
 talent requisite for a practical teacher, and for giving 
 regular progressive instruction; whether it be that I 
 take too little pleasure in tuition, or have not sufficient 
 patience for it, I cannot tell, but, in short, I do not 
 succeed in it. Occasionally, indeed, young people have 
 stayed with me, but any improvement they have 
 derived was solely from our studying music together, 
 from unreserved intercourse, or casual conversation on 
 various subjects, and also from discussions; and none 
 of these things are compatible with actual teaching. 
 Now the question, is, whether in such early youth a 
 sonsecutive, unremitting, strict course of discipline be 
 
VIEWS OF EDUCATION. 
 
 169 
 
 not of more value than all the rest ? It also appears to 
 me that the estrangement of your son from the pater- 
 nal roof just at his age forms a second, and not less 
 important, objection. Where the rudiments of educa- 
 tion are not wholly wanting (and the talents of your 
 wife alone are a security against this), then I consider 
 that the vicinity of his parents, and the prosecution of 
 the usual elements of study, the acquirement of 
 languages, and the various branches of scholarship and 
 science, are of more value to the boy than a one-sided, 
 even though more perfect, cultivation of his genius. In 
 any event such genius is sure to force its way to the 
 light, and to shape its course accordingly, and in riper 
 years will submit to no other permanent vocation, so 
 that the early acquired treasures of interest, and the 
 hours enjoyed in early youth under the roof of a parent, 
 become doubly dear. 
 
 I speak in this strain from my own experience, for I 
 can well remember that in my fifteenth year there was 
 a question as to my studying with Cherubini in Paris, 
 and I know how grateful I was to my father at the 
 time, and often since, that he at last gave up the idea, 
 and kept me with himself. It would of course be very 
 different if there were no means in Bonn, of obtaining 
 good and solid instruction in thorough-bass and the 
 piano; but this I cannot beheve, and whether that 
 instruction be rather better or more intellectual (provid- 
 ed it be not positively objectionable) is of less moment 
 when compared with the advantages of a longer stay 
 in his own home. Further, my life hitherto has been 
 so unsettled, that no summer has passed without my 
 taking considerable journeys, and next year I shall 
 15 
 
170 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 probably be absent from here for five or six months , 
 this change of associations would only be prejudicial to 
 youthful talent. The young man, therefore, must 
 either remain here alone all summer or travel with me ; 
 and neither of these is advisable for him. 
 
 I state all these disadvantages, because I am myself 
 so well aware of them, and fully estimate the import- 
 ance of the subject. If you do not participate in my 
 views on mature consideration, and are still of opinion 
 that I alone can assist your boy in the attainment of 
 his wish, then I repeat that in any case (irrespective of 
 this) I should esteem it my duty to be useful and 
 serviceable, so far as my ability goes, to a youthful 
 genius, and to contribute to his development by the 
 exercise of my own powers ; but, even in this event, 
 a personal interview is indispensable, if only for a few 
 hours, in order to arrange everything clearly, and until 
 then I cannot give an unqualified consent. 
 
 Were you to bring the lad to me at Easter, I fear I 
 should have already set off on my summer excursion. 
 Indeed, the only period when I am certain to be in 
 Leipzig is from autumn till Easter. I quite agree with 
 Madame hTaumann, that it is most essential to cultivate 
 pianoforte-playing at present as much as possible, and 
 not to fail in studying Cramer’s exercises assiduously 
 and steadily ; but along with this daily training on the 
 piano, two hours a week devoted to thorough-bass 
 might be useful, as such a variety would be a pleasant 
 change, rather than an interruption. The latter study 
 indeed ought to be pursued in an easy and almost 
 playful manner, and chiefly the practical part, that of 
 deciphering and playing figured bass; these are the 
 
LETTER FROM PARIS. 
 
 171 
 
 main points, and can be entirely mastered in a short 
 time ; but the sooner it is begun, the sooner is it got 
 quit of, and this is always a rehef with such dry things. 
 And now once more accept my thanks for the trust you 
 have reposed in me, which I thought I could only 
 adequately respond to by entire sincerity. — I am, your 
 faithful 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To I. Moscheles, London. 
 
 Leipzig, November 30th, 1839. 
 
 My dear Friend, 
 
 Your letter from Paris delighted me exceedingly, 
 although the proceedings you describe are not very 
 gratifying. The state of matters there must be very 
 curious. I own that I always felt a kind of repugnance 
 towards it, and this impression has not been diminished 
 by all we have recently heard from thence. Nowhere 
 do variety and outward consideration play so promi- 
 nent a part as there, and what makes the case still 
 worse is, that they not only coquet with orders and 
 decorations, but with artistic inspiration and soul. The 
 very great inward poverty which this betrays, along 
 with the outward glitter of grandeur and worldly im- 
 portance which such miseres assume, is truly revolting 
 to me, even when I merely read of them in a letter. I 
 infinitely prefer our G-erman homeliness and torpor and 
 tobacco-pipes, though, indeed, I can’t say much in 
 their favour since the recent events in Hanover, in 
 
172 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 wMcli I am deeply interested, though I grieve to say 
 they do not exhibit our Fatherland in a pleasing aspect ; 
 so that neither here nor there is life at present very 
 enjoyable: therefore we ought the more heartily to 
 thank Grod that within the domain of art there lies a 
 world far removed from all besides; solitary, yet re- 
 plete with life, where refuge is to be found, and where 
 we can feel that it is well with us. 
 
 Chorley seems to have taken great pleasure in our 
 concerts. On what a splendid scale we could have 
 them if a very little money were only forthcoming I 
 but this hateful money is a hindrance and a stumbling- 
 block all over the world, and we do not get forward as 
 we ought. On one side we have the worthy civilians, 
 who think that Leipzig is Paris, and that everything is 
 admirable, and that if the members of the orchestra 
 were not starving it would no longer be Leipzig ; and 
 on the other side we have the musicians, or rather they 
 leave us as soon as they possibly can, and I give them 
 letters to you in the hope that they may be thus rescued 
 from their misery. 
 
 I have not assisted Pott’s undertaking by any musi- 
 cal contribution. If you could only see the detestable 
 proceedings in Germany at present with regard to 
 monuments, you would have given nothing, either. 
 They speculate on great men, in order, through their 
 reputation, to make a name for themselves, and trum- 
 pet forth in the newspapers, while with their real trum- 
 pets they make very bad music, ^^as deadening as a 
 foggy breeze.” If Halle for Handel, Salzburg for Mo- 
 zart, and Bonn for Beethoven, etc., are really desirous 
 to form good orchestras, capable of playing and com- 
 
MONUMENTS TO MUSICIANS. 
 
 173 
 
 prehending thoroughly their works, then I shall be de- 
 lighted to give them my aid, but not for mere stones, 
 when the orchestra are themselves even more worthless 
 stones, and not for their conservatoriums^ where there 
 is nothing worth conservation. My present hobby is 
 our poor orchestra and its improvement. By dint of 
 incessant running to and fro, writing, and tormenting 
 others, I have at last contrived to scrape together 
 about five hundred thalers^ and before I leave this I ex- 
 pect to get twice that sum for them. If the town 
 does this, it can then proceed to erect a monument to 
 Sebastian Bach, in fi:ont of the Thomas School. But 
 first of all, the money. You see I am a rabid Leip- 
 ziger. It would touch your feelings, too, if you saw 
 all this close at hand, and could hear how the people 
 strain every nerve to accomplish what is really good. 
 
 Has Onslow written anything new ? and old Cheru- 
 bini ? That is a matchless fellow I I have got his 
 “ Abencerrages,” and cannot sufficiently admire the 
 sparkling fire, the clever original phrases, the extraor- 
 dinary delicacy and refinement with which the whole 
 is written, or feel sufficiently grateful to the grand old 
 man for it. Besides, it is all so free and bold and 
 spirited. 
 
 15 * 
 
174 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To Fanny Hensel, Eome. 
 
 Leipzig, January 4th, 1840. 
 This little page shall go to Eome from here, 
 
 And wish you prettily a good new year. 
 
 You see my letter begins in the true ballad-monger 
 style ; if you chance to be in the Coliseum at the mo- 
 ment you receive it, the contrast will be rather gro- 
 tesque. Whereabouts do you live in Eome ? Have 
 you eaten broccoli and ham ? or zuppa Inglese f Is 
 the convent of San Griovanni and Paolo still standing ? 
 and does the sun shine every morning on your buttered 
 roll ? I have just played to Ferdinand Hiller your Ca- 
 prices in B flat major, Gr major, E major, and F major, 
 which surprised us both ; and though we tried hard to 
 detect the cloven foot in them, we could not do so, — 
 all was unmixed dehght. Then I vowed at last to 
 break through my obstinate silence. Pray forgive it I 
 It happened thus. First came the christening, and 
 with it my mother and Paul. In the meantime the 
 sabscription concerts had begun ; then my mother left 
 us ; then Paul, a fortnight later ; then came Hiller to 
 stay with us, intending to remain a week, heard a 
 couple of rehearsals, and decided to remain the whole 
 winter, for the purpose of completing his oratorio of 
 Jeremiah,” and producing it here in March ; then 
 came an abominable cold and catarrh, which for three 
 weeks confined me to bed, or to my room, but always 
 in very bad humour ; then came Breitkopf and Hartel, 
 begging to have the manuscript of my second set of 
 four-part songs, which they have now got, and the 
 
OBJECTS OF INTEREST AT ROME. 
 
 trio, which they have not yet got ; then came tne copy- 
 ist, petitioning for the score of the new Psalm, whicn 
 was performed most gloriously the day before yester 
 day, as a commencement to the new year’s concert 
 then came 116 friends ; then came Madame Pleyel, wK 
 counts for 216 more, and she played the piano righ 
 well ; then came Christmas, to which I was forced tc 
 contribute fourteen gifts, some musical, some pictorial 
 some practical, and some juvenile ; and now comes the 
 benefit concert of Madlle. Meerti: so here you have an 
 dbrege of my Jiistoire universelle since my last letter. 
 
 But teU me, for Heaven’s sake, what are you doing 
 at Kome ? “ The finest part of the old hole is it.s situa- 
 
 tion,” said G-eneral Lepel once; but he is mistaken. 
 There are still greater charms within her walls. What 
 do you say, by the by, to the drone of the Pifferari^ 
 whom the painters paint so admirably, and which pro- 
 duce such indescribable sensations in every nose, wliile 
 sounding through it ? — and to the church music in St. 
 Luigi dei Francesi and others ? I should like to hear 
 you on that subject. Can you tell me the names of all 
 the Cardinals from a mere glimpse of their hoods or 
 trains ? I could do tliis. When you are with a certain 
 Madame by Titian in the Sciarra Palace, and with two 
 other certain Mesdames also by him (the one in a state 
 of nature, the other unfortunately not) in the Borghese 
 Palace,* or with the Galatea,” or any other Raphael, 
 if you do not then think of me and wish I were in 
 Rome, I shall assuredly in that case wish you were the 
 Marchesa Muti Papazurri, whose breadth is greater 
 
 * Earthly aud Heavenly Love.’ 
 
176 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 than her height, and that is five feet six inches. I will 
 now give you some advice. Gro to Monte Testaccio, 
 and settle yourself comfortably in one of the little inns 
 there ; you will feel precisely the same as if you were 
 in Rome. If you have already seen Gruido’s “ Aurora,” 
 be sure you go to see it again. Mark well the horrible 
 fifths of the Papal singers when they adorn each of 
 their four parts at the same moment with flourishes. 
 On a fine Sunday, go on walking the whole day, till the 
 sun sets, and it becomes cool ; then come down from 
 Monte Pincio, or wherever you may be, and have your 
 dinner. Compose a vast deal, for it gets on famously 
 at Rome. Write me soon a long letter. Look out of 
 the windows of any convent near the Lateran, towards 
 the Albano mountains. Count the houses in Frascati 
 in the sunshine ; it is far more beautiful there than in 
 all Prussia and Poland too. 
 
 Forgive this harebrained letter, for I could not make 
 it better. Farewell, dearest Fanny. May Grod bless 
 you, and your journey, and your whole year; and con- 
 tinue to love your Felix 
 
 To I. Furst, Berlin. 
 
 {On the subject of a Libretto that he was writing for an Opera.) 
 
 Leipzig, January 4th, 1840 
 
 Dear Fiirst, 
 
 You upbraid me extravagantly in the beginning of 
 your welcome letter, but at its close you draw so admi- 
 rable a moral, that I have only to thank you anew for 
 
LIBRETTO FOR AN OPERA. 
 
 iV? 
 
 the whole. You do me injustice in suggesting that my 
 sole reason for wishing to see the scenarium is that I 
 may raise difficulties from the starting-point, and bring 
 the child into the world forthwith in its sickly condition. 
 
 It is precisely on opposite grounds that I wish this, 
 in order to obviate subsequent difficulties and organic 
 maladies. If these are, as you declare, born with him, 
 it is best to abstract them from the child, while it is 
 still possible, without injuring every part ; if the injury 
 admits of a remedy at all, it can now be cured, without 
 attacking the whole organization. 
 
 No longer to speak figuratively, what deters me, and 
 has always hitherto deterred me, from the composition 
 of a libretto^ is neither the verse, nor the individual 
 words, nor the mode of handling (or whatever you call 
 it), but the course of the action, the dramatic essence, the 
 march of events, — ^in short, the scenarium. If I do not 
 consider this to be good and solid in itself, then my 
 firm conviction is that the music will not be so either, 
 nor the whole satisfy the pretensions that I must make 
 in executing such a work, though they may indeed 
 entirely difier from those which are usually made, and 
 from those of the public. But I have long since given 
 up all idea of conforming to their tastes, simply for this 
 reason, that it is impossible ; so I must follow the 
 dictates of my own conscience, now as ever. 
 
 Blanche’s text can never, even with the best will on 
 both sides, become such a work as I want ; I am almost 
 disposed to give up my purpose as utterly hopeless. I 
 would rather never compose an opera at all, than one 
 which from the very commencement I considered only 
 indifferent; moreover, I could not possibly compose for 
 
178 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 such a one, were you to give me the whole kingdom of 
 Prussia to do so. All this, and the many annoyances, 
 certain to occur at the completion of a text, if I should 
 not feel disposed to undertake it, render it my duty to 
 proceed step by step, and rather to move too slowly 
 than too hastily ; on this account I have resolved, unless 
 we first agree about the scenarium^ never to beguile 
 any poet into undertaking so laborious a work, which 
 may after all prove vain. This scenarium may be prolix 
 or brief, detailed or merely sketched^;— on these points 
 I do not presume to dictate, and quite as little, whether 
 the opera should be in three, four, or five acts ; if it be 
 really good, just as it is written, then eight acts would 
 not be too many for me, nor one too few ; and I say 
 the same as to a ballet or no ballet. The only criterion 
 is, whether it harmonizes or not with the musical and 
 other existing feelings of my nature ; and I believe 
 that I am able to discern this quite as well from the 
 scenarium as from the finished text, and that is, more- 
 over, a point which no one can decide save myself 
 personally. 
 
 I have thus placed the whole truth before you, and 
 Heaven grant that all these things may not deter you 
 from writing an opera, that you may also intrust it to 
 me for composition, and that I may at length through 
 you see a long-cherished wish fulfilled. I need not tell 
 you how eagerly I shall await your decision. — ^Yours, 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartiioldv. 
 
MUSIC AT LEIPZIG. 
 
 179 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Leipzig, February 7th, 1840. 
 
 Dear Brother, 
 
 Every word, alas 1 that you write about Berlin and 
 the course of things there, corresponds but too well 
 with my own views on the subject. The proceedings 
 there are far from gratifying, and what strikes me as 
 the most hopeless part is, that all its inhabitants are of 
 one accord on the subject, and yet, in spite of this uni- 
 versal feelmg, no change to what is good and healthy 
 is ever effected. But where cannot the individual man 
 Hve and thrive ? especially in Germany, where we are 
 all compelled to isolation, and must, from the very first, 
 renounce all idea of working together in unison. Still 
 it has its bright side and its original aspect. When 
 are you coming here again to play bilhards with us ? I 
 have been hving a stirring hfe all through this winter. 
 Fancy my being obliged to play in public four times 
 last week, and two pieces on each occasion. Last 
 Saturday week, the first Quartett Soiree took place, 
 where pianoforte music was introduced; so I played 
 Mozart’s sonata in A major, with David, and the B flat 
 major trio of Beethoven. On Sunday evening Ernst 
 played four quartetts at Hiller’s ; one of them was the 
 E minor of Beethoven, and mine in E flat major. 
 Early on Monday the rehearsal took place, and in the 
 evening the concert, where I accompanied him in his 
 Elegie,” and in three songs besides ; on the following 
 Thursday, Hiller and I played Mozart’s concerto, writ- 
 ten for two pianos, into which we introduced two 
 grand cadenzo^^ and at the close of the second part of 
 
180 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 the concert, we played Moscheles’ duett in Q- major.* 
 The Saturday after, I again played with David at the 
 Quartett Soiree, a new rondo of Spohr’s, and wound 
 up with my trio. In addition, we are to have a musi- 
 cal soiree at D ’s, a meeting of the Liedertafel, a 
 
 ball, etc. etc. ; and yet with all this, every one com- 
 plains that I persist in hving so retired. Latterly I 
 have become quite tired of music, and think I must 
 take to painting once more ; but my Swiss sketches 
 are coming to an end, and fain would I return thither 
 to make new ones, but I already see^ that there is no 
 hope of such a thing this summer. Hiller lately said 
 that I was like those ancient barbarians, who took such 
 delight in the luscious fruits and the warm sun of the 
 South, that they were always longing for them once 
 more ; and there really is some truth in this. Would 
 that our orchestra had not so many attractions. Yes- 
 terday they played the B flat major symphony of Bee- 
 thoven famously. In the course of a few days the 
 choruses (now completed) in Hiller’s oratorio are to be 
 rehearsed. I feel as much anxiety on the subject as if 
 they were my own, or even greater. 
 
 Last week I had an agreeable occupation, which was 
 that of distributing the five hundred dollars, granted to 
 the orchestra, amongst its various members ; the sum 
 is small and the aid trifling, still I felt great satisfaction 
 in having even accomplished this much. Hext year I 
 mean to begin it all over again, and then I hope to do 
 a real service to the musicians ; whether they thank 
 me or not, is, after all, quite a matter of indiflerence. 
 
 Pray send for a little work which contains the most 
 
 ♦ “ Hommage ^ Handel.’ 
 
LISZT AND THALBERG. 
 
 181 
 
 beautiful and interesting descriptions I have read for a 
 long time. They are Eastern translations by Riickert, 
 and the title is ^ Erbauliches und Beschauliches aus dem 
 Morgenlande.’ If this book does not delight you be- 
 yond measure, I will never recommend one to you 
 again. Do look into it often, for it is most extraordi- 
 nary. — ^Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Ills Mother. 
 
 Leipzig, March 30th, 1840. 
 
 The turmoil of the last few weeks was overpowering. 
 Liszt was here for a fortnight, and caused quite a 
 paroxysm of excitement among us, both in a good and 
 evil sense. I consider him to be in reality an amiable 
 warm-hearted man, and an admirable artist. That he 
 plays with more execution than all the others, does not 
 admit of a doubt ; yet Thalberg, with his composure, 
 and within his more restricted sphere, is more perfect, 
 taken as a virtuoso; and this is the standard which 
 must also be applied to Liszt, for his compositions are 
 inferior to his playing, and, in fact, are only calculated 
 for virtuosos. A fantasia by Thalberg (especially that 
 on the ‘‘ Donna del Lago ”) is an accumulation of the 
 most exquisite and delicate effects, and a continued 
 succession of difficulties and embellishments that excite 
 our astonishment ; all is so well devised and so finished, 
 carried out with such security and skill, and pervaded 
 by the most refined taste. 
 
 On the other hand, Liszt possesses a degree of velocity 
 16 
 
182 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 and complete independence of finger, and a thoroughly 
 musical feeling, which can scarcely be equalled. In a 
 word, I have heard no performer whose musical percep- 
 tions, like those of Liszt, extended to the very tips of 
 his fingers, emanating directly from them. With this 
 power, and his enormous technicality and practice, he 
 must have far surpassed all others, if a man’s own ideas 
 were not, after all, the chief point, and these, hitherto 
 at least, seem denied to him ; so that in this phase of 
 art most of the great virtuosos equal, and indeed excel 
 him. But that he, along with Thalberg, alone repre- 
 sents the highest class of pianists of the present day, 
 is, I think, undeniable. Unhappily, the manner in 
 which Liszt has acted towards the public here has not 
 pleased them. The whole misunderstanding is, in fact, 
 as if you were listening to two persons disputing, who 
 are both in the wrong, and whom you would fain inter- 
 rupt at every word. As for the citizens in general, 
 who are angry at the high prices, and do not wish to 
 see a clever fellow prosper too much, and grumble 
 accordingly, I don’t in the least care about them ,* and 
 then the newspaper discussions, explanations, and 
 counter-explanations, criticisms and complaints, and all 
 kinds of things are poured down on us, totally uncon- 
 nected with music ; so that his stay here has caused us 
 almost as much annoyance as pleasure, though the lat- 
 ter was, indeed, often great beyond measure. 
 
 It occurred to me that this unpleasant state of feel- 
 ing might be most effectually allayed, by people seeing 
 and hearing him in private ; so I suddenly determined 
 to give him a soiree in the Gewandhaus, of three hun- 
 dred and fifty persons, with orchestra, choir, mulled 
 
liszt’s private soiree. 
 
 183 
 
 wine, cakes, my “ Meeresstille,” a Psalm, a triple con- 
 certo by Bach (Liszt, Hiller, and I), choruses from St. 
 Paul,” fantasia on ‘‘ Lucia di Lammermoor,” the “ Eii 
 King,” the deml and Ms grandmother and good- 
 ness knows what else ; and all the people were delight- 
 ed, and played and sang with the utmost enthusiasm, 
 and vowed they had never passed a more capital even- 
 ing; so my object was thus happily effected in a 
 most agreeable manner. 
 
 I have to-day formed a resolution, in which I heartily 
 rejoice, and that is, never again to take any part as 
 judge of the prizes at a musical competition. Several 
 proposals of this kind were made to me, and I did not 
 know why I should be so annoyed by these, till I clearly 
 saw that it was in fact a display of arrogance on my 
 part, to which I would not myself submit from others, 
 and should therefore carefully avoid, — thus setting one- 
 self up as a proficient, and my taste as incontrover- 
 tible, and in idle hour passing in review all the assem- 
 bled competitors, and criticizing them, and, God knows, 
 possibly being guilty of the most glaring injustice 
 towards them. So I resolved once for all to renounce 
 the office, and feel quite relieved by having done so. 
 
 To THE Kreis-Director von Falkenstein, Dresden. 
 
 Leipzig, April 8th, 1840. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Emboldened by the assurance of your kind feelings 
 in our recent conversation, and by the conviction that 
 
184 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 you have sincerely at heart the condition of art here, 
 and its further cultivation (of which you have already 
 given so many proofs), permit me to lay before you a 
 question which seems to me of the highest importance 
 to the interest of music. 
 
 Would it not be possible to entreat his Majesty the 
 King to dispose of the sum bequeathed by the late Herr 
 Bliimner for the purpose of establishing an institution 
 for art and science (the investment of which is left to the 
 discretion of his Majesty), in favour of the erection and 
 maintenance of a fundamental music academy in Leip- 
 zig? 
 
 Permit me to make a few observations on the import- 
 ance of such an institution, and to state why I consider 
 that Leipzig is pecuharly entitled to aspire to such a 
 one, and also what I consider to be the fitting basis for 
 its organization. 
 
 For a long period music has been indigenous in this 
 country, and the sense of what is true and genuine, the 
 very phase which must be nearest the heart of every 
 ardent and thoughtful friend to art, has at all times 
 struck its roots deep into this soil. Such universal 
 sympathy does not certainly come by chance, nor is it 
 without influential results on general cultivation ; music 
 having thus become an important power, not as a mere 
 passing enjoyment, but as a more elevated and intel- 
 lectual requirement. Those who feel sincere solicitude 
 about this art must eagerly wish that its future pros- 
 pects in this land should rest on the most solid founda- 
 tion. 
 
 The positive, technical, and material tendencies so 
 prevalent at the present day render the preservation of 
 
PROPOSAL FOR AN ACADEMY OF MUSIC. 
 
 185 
 
 a genuine sense of art, and its further advancement, 
 of twofold importance, but also of twofold diflS.culty. 
 A solid basis alone can accomplish this purpose ; and as 
 the extension of sound instruction is the best mode of 
 promoting every species of moral improvement, so 
 it is with music also. If we had a good music aca- 
 demy, — embracing all the various branches of this art, 
 and teaching them from one sole point of view, as only 
 the means to a higher end, — then the practical and 
 material tenets, which, alas I can number even among 
 our artists many influential adherents, might, no doubt, 
 yet be effectually checked. 
 
 Mere private instruction, which once bore much good 
 fruit for the world at large, on many accounts now no 
 longer suffices. Formerly, students of various instru- 
 ments were to be found in every class of society, 
 whereas now this amateurship is gradually passing away, 
 or is chiefly confined to one instrument, — the piano. 
 
 Scholars desirous of enjoying further instructions al- 
 most invariably consist of those who propose devoting 
 themselves to this branch of art, and who rarely possess 
 the means of paying for private lessons. The most 
 admirable talent is indeed often to be found amongst 
 this class ; but, on the other hand, teachers are seldom 
 placed in such fortunate circumstances as to be able to 
 devote their time, without remuneration, to the training 
 of even the finest genius ; thus both sides endure priva- 
 tion, — the former being unable to obtain the wished 
 for instruction, and the latter losing the opportunity of 
 implanting, and practically enforcing, their own know- 
 ledge. A public institution would, at this moment, be 
 of the most vital importance to teachers as well as to 
 16 * 
 
186 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 pupils ; and the latter -would thus acquire the means of 
 improving capabihties which otherwise must often 
 remain undeveloped and wasted; while, for the teachers 
 of music, such a standard of combined action from one 
 point of view, and for the attainment of one purpose, 
 would also be advantageous, as the best remedy against 
 lukewarmness and isolation, the unfruitfulness of 
 which, in these days, is but too apt to exercise a ruin- 
 ous influence on the mind. 
 
 In Leipzig the need of a school for music, in which 
 Art may be pursued with conscientious study and an 
 earnest mind, is deeply felt ; and for various reasons 
 Leipzig seems peculiarly suited for it. The university 
 already a central locality for intellectual aspiring young 
 men, and the school of knowledge, would, in many re- 
 lations, connect itself with that of music. In most of 
 the other large towns of G-ermany public amusements 
 dissipate the mind, and exercise an injurious influence 
 over the young ; here, however, most of these amuse- 
 ments are more or less connected with music, or consist 
 wholly of it ; thus there are very few public recreations 
 except those allied to music ; so this institution would 
 benefit both the cause and the individual; moreover, 
 for that especial branch of art which must always 
 remain the chief basis of musical studies — the more 
 elevated class of instrumental and sacred compositions 
 — Leipzig, by its very numerous concerts and oratorios, 
 possesses the means of cultivating the taste of young 
 artists to an extent that few other German cities can 
 offer. 
 
 Through the lively sympathy with which the princi- 
 pal works of the great masters for the last fifty years 
 
PROP^'SAL FOR AN ACADEMY OF MUSIO. 
 
 187 
 
 have been received and acknowledged here (often for 
 the first time in G-ermany), and by the careful atten- 
 tion with which these works have been invariably 
 executed, Leipzig has assumed a high position among 
 the musical cities of our Fatherland. Lastly, in support 
 of this petition I may add that Herr Hofkriegsrath 
 Blnmner, who cherished so great a love for poetry 
 and the poetical in every art, always devoted special 
 attention to the state of music here, and indeed took 
 an active charge in the direction of the concerts, in 
 which he was warmly interested; so that such an 
 apportionment of his bequest would undoubtedly be 
 quite in accordance with the artistic feelings of the 
 testator. 
 
 While other establishments of public utility are con- 
 stantly encouraged, and some even richly endowed, the 
 music here has never received the smallest aid from any 
 quarter. The musical institution in the capital being 
 supported by G-overnment, is it not then peculiarly 
 desirable that this city should receive the sum be- 
 queathed by one of its inhabitants, where such a boon 
 would be received with peculiar gratitude on every 
 side ? On all these grounds, may his Majesty then be 
 graciously disposed not to refuse the fulfilment of a 
 wish so warmly cherished, and thus impart a new 
 stimulus and a fi:esh impulse to art. It would give an 
 impetus to musical fife here, the effects of which would 
 speedily and enduringly be disseminated, with the best 
 influence. 
 
 Allow me to enclose in this envelope some general 
 outhnes for the arrangement of such a musical academy, 
 and receive the assurance of the distinguished esteem 
 
188 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 with which I have the honour to remain your devoted 
 servant, 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To HIS Mother. 
 
 Leipzig, August 10th, 1840. 
 
 On Thursday I gave an organ concert here in the 
 Thomas Church, from the proceeds of which old Sebas- 
 tian Bach is to have a monument erected to his memory, 
 in front of the Thomas School. I gave it solissimo^ and 
 played nine pieces, winding up with an extempore fan- 
 tasia. This was the whole programme. Although my 
 expenses were considerable, I had a clear gain of three 
 hundred dollars. I mean to try this again in the au- 
 tumn or spring, and then a very handsome memorial 
 may be put up.* I practised hard for eight days pre- 
 viously, till I could really scarcely stand upright, and 
 executed nothing but organ passages along the street 
 ill my gait when I walked out. 
 
 To Fanny Hensel, Berlin. 
 
 Leipzig, October 24th, 184C 
 
 Dear Fanny, 
 
 I make use of my first morning’s leisure since my 
 return from England, to thank you for your most admi- 
 
 ♦ This has been done. The monument is on the promenade, under 
 the windows of Sebastian Bach’s rooms, in the Thomas School, 
 
GERMANY AND ITALY. 
 
 189 
 
 rable and charming letter, which welcomed me on my 
 return here. When I first saw it lying, and broke the 
 seal, I had somehow a kind of presentiment that it 
 might contain some bad news (I mean, something mo- 
 mentous). I don’t know how this was, but the very 
 first lines made me see it in a very different light, and 
 I read on and on with the greatest delight. What a 
 pleasure it is to receive such a letter, with such a flavour 
 of life and joy, and all that is good! The only tone in 
 a minor key, is that you do not expect to like Berlin 
 much after Kome ; but this I consider a very transitory 
 feeling; after a long sojourn in Italy where could any 
 one be contented ? There, all is so glowing I and our 
 dear G-erman home life, which I do so heartily love, 
 has this in common with all that is German and dear, 
 that it is neither splendid nor brilliant, but its stillness 
 and repose only the more surely fascinate the heart. 
 After every absence I felt just the same when the joy 
 of the first days of reunion was past; I missed the 
 variety and the excitement of travelling so much, that 
 home seemed sadly monotonous, and I discovered all 
 sorts of deficiencies, whereas during my journey all was 
 perfect and all was good. The same feelings have often 
 recurred to me recently at the Leipzig Liedertafel, and 
 at the innumerable demands and intrusions, etc. etc. ; 
 but this did not last, and was certainly only a fallacy. 
 All that is good, and that we like in our travels, is, in 
 fact, our wonted property at home, only we there exact 
 a still larger portion. If we could only preserve through 
 fife the fresh, contented, and lofty tone of feeling which, 
 for the first few days on returning from a journey, leads 
 us to look at every object with such satisfaction, and 
 
190 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 on the journey makes us rise superior to all annoy- 
 ances, — if we could only remain inwardly in this buoy- 
 ant travelling spirit, while continuing to live in the 
 quiet of home, — we should indeed be vastly perfect! 
 Instead of this, last night, at the twenty-fifth anniver- 
 sary of the Liedertafel, I was as angry as if I had been 
 a young boy. They sang so false, and talked even more 
 falsely ; and when it became peculiarly tiresome, it was 
 in the name of our German Fatherland,” or “in the 
 good old German fashion.” Yet when I came back 
 from England I had formed such a strong resolution 
 never to discompose myself about anything, and to 
 remain entirely neutral 1* I was eight days in London, 
 and the same in Birmingham, and to me the period 
 passed like a troubled dream ; but nothing could be 
 more gratifying than meeting with so many friends 
 quite unchanged. Although I could only see them for 
 so short a time, yet the glimpse into so friendly an 
 existence, of which we hear nothing for years, but 
 which remains stiU linked with our own, and will ever 
 continue to be so, causes most pleasurable sensations. 
 
 Of course I was constantly with Klingemann and 
 Moscheles, and with the Alexanders also, where, in the 
 
 * It is characteristic of both, that Mendelssohn’s sister set the fol- 
 lowing poem of Goethe’s to music: — 
 
 “Here are we then, my friend, at home once morel 
 And tranquilly reclines the artist’s eye 
 On scenes of peace and love from door to door, 
 
 Where life to life in kindliness draws nigh. 
 
 “ Back with our household gods, here are we then I 
 For though through distant regions we may roam. 
 
 From all these ravishments we turn again 
 Back to the magic sphere we call our home.” 
 
FRIENDS IN ENGLAND. 
 
 191 
 
 most elegant rococo drawing-rooms, among all the new- 
 est and most fashionable objects, I found my father’s 
 portrait, painted by Hensel, in its old favourite place, 
 and standing on its own little table; and I was with 
 the Horsleys also, and in mai^y other houses where I 
 felt happy and at home ; when I recall my excessive 
 uneasiness at the prospect of the journey, and how we 
 paced up and down here together and discussed it, 
 making each other, in fact, only mutually more nervous, 
 and yet all is now so happily over and I so happily re- 
 turned to my family, I ought scarcely to do anything 
 all day long but rejoice and be thankful, — instead of 
 which I fly into a passion with the Liedertafel, and you 
 do the same with the Art Exhibition I 
 
 You ask me whether we are to have peace or war? 
 How have I got such a fine reputation as a news- 
 monger ? Hot that I do not deserve it, for I maintain 
 through thick and thin that we shall, have peace, but 
 combined with much warhke agitation ; though when 
 a poUticus by profession hke Paul is in the family, he 
 must be applied to. He may say what he likes, but no 
 war shall we have. 
 
 Though, when I think of yesterday’s Liedertafel, I 
 almost wish we had I 
 
 Pray write again soon, my very dear sister, and a 
 long letter. — Your 
 
 Pelrx. 
 
192 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To HIS Mother. 
 
 Leipzig, October 27th, IWO 
 
 Dear Mother, 
 
 A thousand thanks for your kind letter, received 
 yesterday, Avhich was truly charming, in spite of the 
 well-merited little hit at the beginning. I ought indeed 
 to have written to you long since ; but during the last 
 three months you can have no idea how entirely I have 
 been obliged to play the part of “ Hans of all work.” 
 There are trifling minute occupations, too, such as 
 notes, etc., of daily recurrence, wliich seem to me as 
 tiresome and useless in our existence as dust on books, 
 and which, hke it, at last thickly accumulate, and do 
 much harm, unless fairly cleared away every morning ; 
 and then I feel so keenly the impulse to make some 
 progress with my daily labours as soon as I am in a 
 happy vein. All these things cause the weeks and 
 months to fly past like the wind. 
 
 You probably already know, through the newspapers, 
 that we had recently a* second performance of the 
 Hymn of Praise ” for the King of Saxony, at an extra 
 subscription concert, and it went off famously. All the 
 music was given with such precision that it was a real 
 pleasure to listen to it. The King sent for me between 
 the parts, which obliged me to pass through a double 
 row of ladies (you know the arrangement of our con- 
 cert-room) in order to reach the place where the King 
 and his Court were seated. He conversed with me for 
 some time, in the most good-natured and friendly man- 
 ner, and spoke very judiciously about music. The 
 Hymn of Praise ” was given in the second part, and 
 
THE KING OF SAXONY. 
 
 193 
 
 at the conclusion, just as I had quitted mj music-desk, 
 I suddenly heard people round me saying, The King 
 is coming to him this time ; ” and he was in fact passing 
 through the rows of ladies, and came up to my desk 
 (you may imagine what universal satisfaction this 
 caused). He spoke to me in so animated a manner, 
 and with such cordiahty and warmth, that I did indeed 
 feel it to be a great pleasure and honour. He mentioned 
 the particular passages that had pleased him most, and, 
 after thanking all the singers, he took his departure, 
 while the whole orchestra, and the whole audience, 
 made the very best bows and curtsies they could ac- 
 complish. Then came a hubbub and confusion like 
 Hoah’s ark. Perhaps the King will now bestow the 
 ^ tvfenty thousand thalers which I long ago petitioned 
 might be given towards the music here. In that case, 
 I could with truth say that I had done good service to 
 the music of Leipzig.* 
 
 Eckert has returned here in the character of a zealous 
 Prussian patriot, and goes nearly as far as the Prussian 
 Grovernment paper, wliich declares that the rain which 
 beat in the King’s face only fanned his fire still more. 
 But to my incredulous grimaces Eckert replied that 
 you were quite of his way of thinking, and had charged 
 ■ him to let me know this. It is so provoking that a 
 distance even of twenty miles should exercise so irre- 
 sistible an influence, and that, notwithstanding all the 
 minute descriptions and details in the newspapers, wo 
 cannot rightly understand the proceedings which take 
 place in your presence, and vice versa. A thousand 
 minutiae are involved in the affair, which appear irisig- 
 
 * Sc© the letter to Herr von Falkenstoin, April SLh, 1840. 
 
 17 
 
194 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 nificant, and are consequently omitted by the narrator ; 
 and yet they are the links that connect the whole, and 
 the chief cause of many of these events. 
 
 So far as I can gather the real meaning of it all, just 
 so far does it displease me, and that is perhaps the rea- 
 son why I cannot approve of all the other fine ad- 
 juncts, down to the “ fiery rain” of the Grovernment 
 paper. In the mean while, time pursues its steady jog- 
 trot pace. Thiers is no longer minister. A number of 
 arrests have been made in Frankfort, and Queen Chris- 
 tina is welcome to my little room. By Heavens I I 
 would at this moment far rather be a musician than a 
 sovereign ! 
 
 I say nothing about the silver wedding day of the 
 Leipzig Liedertafel, for I have not yet recovered from 
 it. Grod help us I what a tiresome thing our Grerman 
 Fatherland is, when viewed in this light ! I can well 
 remember my Father’s violent wrath against Lieder- 
 tafels, and indeed against everything at all connected 
 with Vetter Michel ; and I feel something similar 
 stirring within me. 
 
 Farewell, dearest mother. — Ever your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Fanny Hensel, Berlin. 
 
 Leipzig, November 14th, 1840. 
 
 Dear Fanny, 
 
 My brightest, best, and most heartfelt good wishes 
 for this day I Once upon a time, I used to send you a 
 
BIRTHDAY CONGRATULATIONS. 
 
 195 
 
 new manuscript, bound in green, in honour of the occa- 
 sion ; now I must content myself with a more scanty 
 letter ; and yet the old custom pleases me very much 
 better. 
 
 No doubt, in the course of your birthday, you too 
 think of us here ; but that does not mend matters much 
 for me. This evening, at the recommencement of the 
 Quartett Soirees, I am to play to the Leipzigers Mozart’s 
 quartett in Gr minor, and the Beethoven trio in D 
 major, and, as I already said, this kind of birthday cele- 
 bration does not please me ; it will be very differently 
 commemorated where you are. Would that we could 
 be with you I My best thanks also for your last letter. 
 Do you know, I think your suggestion as to the “ M- 
 belungen” most luminous! It has been constantly in 
 my head ever since, and I mean to employ my first 
 leisure day in reading over the poem, for I have for- 
 gotten the details, and can only recall the general 
 colouring and outlines, which seem to me gloriously 
 dramatic. Will you kindly communicate to me your 
 specific ideas on this subject ? The poem is evidently 
 more present to your memory than to mine. I scarcely 
 remember what your allusion means, as to the sinking 
 into the Rhine. Can you point out to me the various 
 passages which struck you as particularly dramatic, when 
 the idea first occurred to you ? and, above all, say some- 
 thing more definite on the subject, as the whole tone 
 and colouring, and characteristics, take my fancy 
 strongly ; therefore I beg of you to do so, and soon, 
 too ; it will be an essential service to me. Refer 
 entirely to the poem itself, for before your letter can 
 arrive I shall certainly liave read it, though I shall not 
 
196 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 the less eagerly expect your opinion. Accept my 
 thanks for this happy thought, as for all else. 
 
 Yes! the arpeggios in the chromatic fantasia* are 
 certainly the chief effect. I take the liberty to play 
 them with all possible crescendos^ and pianos^ and for- 
 tissimos^ pedal of course, and to double the notes in the 
 bass ; further, to mark the small passing notes at the be- 
 ginning of the arpeggios (the crotchets in the middle 
 parts), etc., and likewise the principal notes of the me- 
 lody just as they come : rendered thus, the succession 
 of glorious harmonies produces an admirable effect on 
 our rich-toned new pianos. For example, the com- 
 mencement, merely thus : — 
 
 N.B. — Each chord plajed in double arpeggios , afterwards only 
 once, as they come. 
 
 * By Sebastian Bach. 
 
CHROMATIC FANTASIA BY BACH. 
 
 197 
 
 Then to the end thus : — 
 
 People vow that this is quite as fine as Thalberg, and 
 even more so. Don’t show this receipt, however, to 
 17 * 
 
198 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 any one; it is a mystery like all domestic receipts, 
 When you see Herr v. Zucalmaglio, thank him for his 
 packet and the letter I received from him ; at the same 
 time (though this is quite between ourselves), I cannot 
 compose music for the songs he sent me; they are 
 patriotic, and at this moment I have no taste whatever 
 for this style of song, — they might cause a great deal 
 of bad feeling; and in the present state of things, 
 people seem to me to begin to sing against the French, 
 at the very moment when they must know that the 
 French will not fight against them : for such a purpose 
 I have no music. But adieu for the present. I do wish 
 that instead of being obliged to dress, and to go through 
 a vast amount of music, I were going across to you. 
 We could play at Black Peter,” or some other merry 
 game, and eat cakes. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Carl Klingemann, London. 
 
 Leipzig, November' 18th, 1840. 
 
 My dearest Friend, 
 
 I am living here in as entire quiet and sohtude as I 
 could possibly desire ; my wife and children are well, 
 G-od be praised I and I have work in abundance ; what 
 can any man wish for beyond this ? I only long for its 
 continuance, and pray that Heaven may grant it, while 
 I daily rejoice afresh in the peaceful monotony of my 
 life. At the beginning of the winter, however, I had 
 some difficulty in avoiding the social gatherings which 
 
HYMN OF PRAISE. 
 
 199 
 
 bloom and thrive here, and which would cause both a 
 sad loss of time and of pleasure if you were to accept 
 them, but now I have pretty well succeeded in getting 
 rid of them. Moreover, this week there is a fast, so 
 we have no subscription concert, which gives us a 
 pleasant domestic season of rest. My ^‘Hymn of 
 Praise” is to be performed the end of this month for 
 the benefit of old invalided musicians. I am determin- 
 ed, however, that it shall not be produced in the imper- 
 fect form in which, owing to my illness, it was given in 
 Birmingham ; so that makes me work hard. Four new 
 pieces are to be added, and I have also much improved 
 the three sets of symphonies, which are now in the 
 hands of the copyist. As an introduction to the chorus 
 “Die ISTacht ist vergangen,” I have found far finer 
 words in the Bible, and admirably adapted to the 
 music. By the by, you have much to answer for in 
 the admirable title you hit on so cleverly, for not only 
 have I sent forth the piece into the world as a symphony 
 cantata^ but I have serious thoughts of resuming the 
 first “ Walpurgis hlacht” (which has been so long lying 
 by me) under the same cognomen, and finishing and 
 getting rid of it at last. It is singular enough that 
 at the very first suggestion of this idea I should have 
 written to Berlin that I was resolved to compose a 
 symphony with a chorus ; subsequently I had not 
 courage to begin, because the three movements were too 
 long for an introduction, and yet I never could divest 
 myself of the impression that something was wanting 
 in the shape of an introduction. Now the symphony 
 is to be inserted, according to my original intention, 
 and the piece brought out at once. Do you know it ? 
 
200 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 I scarcely think that it is well adapted for performance, 
 and yet I like it much. 
 
 The whole town here is ringing with a song, supposed 
 to haye a political tendency against the French, and 
 the journals are striving with all their might to render 
 it popular. In the present dearth of public topics, they 
 succeed in this without any difficulty, and every one is 
 speaking of the “ Rheinlied,” or the Colognaise^ as they 
 significantly call it. The thing is characteristic, for 
 the first line begins, “ Sie sollen ihn nicht haben, den 
 freien Deutschen Ehein,” and at the commencement of 
 each verse is repeated, Never shall they have it,” as 
 if there were the least sense in such words I If they 
 were at least changed into We mean to keep it,” — 
 but “ Never shall they have it,” seems to me so sterile 
 and futile. There is certainly something very boyish 
 in this idea ; for when I actually possess an object, and 
 hold it sure and fast, it is quite superfluous to sing, or to 
 say, that it shall belong to no one else. This song is 
 now sung at Court in Berlin, and in the clubs and 
 casinos here, and of course the musicians pounce upon 
 it like mad, and are immortalizing themselves by setting 
 it. The Leipzig composers have already brought out 
 no less than three melodies for it, and every day the 
 papers make some allusion to it. Yesterday, amongst 
 other things, they said I had also set the song, where- 
 as I never even dreamt of meddhng with such a merely 
 defensive inspiration. 
 
 So the people here lie like print, just as they do with 
 you, and everywhere else. 
 
THE “RHEINLTED. 
 
 201 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Leipzig, November 20th, 1840. 
 
 Dear Paul, 
 
 How much I wish that you would perform your 
 promise, and come here for the “ Hymn of Praise ” ! I 
 shall be glad to know what you think of it, and to hear 
 if it pleases you, for I own that it lies very near my 
 heart. I think, too, that it will be well executed by 
 our orchestra; but in spite of this, if by arriving in 
 time for its performance your proposed visit must be in 
 any degree shortened, then I would urge you to come 
 on some other occasion, for our happy quiet intercourse 
 must always form the chief object in our Leipzig life, 
 and even one day more is pure gain. If indeed both 
 could be combined, a visit of the usual length and the 
 concert, that would of course be best of all. The 
 “ Hymn of Praise ” is to form the second part ; in the 
 first, probably Weber’s “Jubilee Overture” will be 
 given, Kreuzer’s “ Pheinlied,” and some other pieces. 
 I could write you a long complaint about this said 
 “ Pheinhed.” You can have no idea of the fuss they 
 make about it here, and how utterly repugnant to me 
 this newspaper enthusiasm is ; to make such a piece of 
 work about a song, the chief burden of which is, that 
 others shall not deprive us of what we have already 
 got, — truly this is worthy of such a commotion and 
 such music I I never wish to hear a single note of it 
 sung, when the refrain is always the resolve not to 
 give up what you possess. Young lads and timid men 
 may make this outcry, but true men make no such 
 piece of work about what is their own ; they have it, 
 
202 
 
 MENDEIiSSOHn’s letters. 
 
 and that suffices. I felt provoked to see recently in a 
 newspaper that, in addition to four compositions on 
 these words, one by me had just appeared, and my 
 name was printed full length; yet I cannot give a 
 direct contradiction to this, for as regards the public I 
 am dumb. At the same time Hartel sent me a message 
 that if I would compose for it, he would undertake to 
 dispose of six thousand copies in two months. No, 
 Paul, I won’t do it. May we soon have a happy meet- 
 ing! — Your Felix. 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdt. 
 
 Leipzig, December 7th, 1840. 
 
 Dear Brother, 
 
 Just as I was about to write to you yesterday, to 
 thank you cordially again and again for the fresh proof 
 of your true brotherly love which you have given me,* 
 
 * His brother had gone to Leipzig, at the instigation of the Wirk- 
 lich Geheimrath Herr von Massow, to negotiate with Mendelssohn 
 the subject of a situation in Berlin. It was proposed to divide the 
 Academy of Arts into four classes, — namely, painting, sculpture, archi- 
 tecture, and music, — and to appoint a director for each class, to whom 
 the superintendence of the Academy should be intrusted alternately, 
 and in fixed succession. The music class, for which Mendelssohn had 
 been selected as Director, was to cons»t essentially of a large Conserva- 
 torium, in the expectation that, in connection with the resources of the 
 Royal Theatre, public concerts, partly of a sacred and partly of a 
 secular natui*e, should bo given. However promising Mendelssohn 
 considered this project, he at once expressed considerable doubts, 
 not so much that the plan could not be carried out, but that it would 
 not be so; and the result proved how correct his judgment was on 
 the point. 
 
THE BERLIN ACADEMY OF MUSIC. 
 
 203 
 
 your letter arrived, and I can only repeat the same 
 thing. Even if the affair leads to nothing further than 
 to shov^^ me (what is the fact) that you participate in 
 my wish once more to pass a portion of our lives to- 
 gether, that you, too, feel there is something wanting 
 when we are not all united in one spot, this is to me 
 invaluable, and more gratifying than I can express. 
 Whether it be attended with a happy result or not, I 
 would not give up such a conviction for anything in 
 the world. 
 
 Your letter, indeed, demands mature deliberation, 
 but I prefer replying to it at once, for the coincidence 
 of Herr Massow’s journey is most fortunate, and you 
 can thus hear my opinion before your interview with 
 him. 
 
 I am prepared to acknowledge to the utmost extent 
 the high honour conferred on me, and the excellence 
 of the position offered to me. On this very account, 
 however, I wish to obviate any difficulties, and to make 
 the matter as clear as possible. One thing occurs to 
 me in the proposal, which you can perhaps remedy in 
 your conversation with Massow. It would not be easy 
 to explain it by letter, and at all events it would lose 
 much time, and not further the affair. 
 
 You may remember the general overtures as to the 
 Academy and school for music that you brought me, 
 and you know that I named the concerts as a positive 
 stipulation ; on the other hand, I said to you that with- 
 out a definite sphere of work (as an appointed com- 
 poser, like G-rimms, you can say) I should hesitate 
 much to accept the proposal. Either of these situations 
 would suit me, but not the two combined. I would 
 
204 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 at once most decidedly refdse this, much as I should 
 regret being obliged to do so, and however advantageous 
 it might seem to me in other points. Your condition 
 No. 2 sets forth that I am to be director of the musical 
 classes, without any definite sphere of work, etc. ; and 
 then No. 4 declares that I am to give sundry concerts 
 every year, — but that is a combination to which I never 
 can consent. For instance, were I to undertake to 
 give concerts in Berlin (and the acceptance of these 
 proposals would render it my duty so to do, even to- 
 wards you), then I must stand in a different relation to 
 the orchestra from what I could possibly do as the 
 mere director of the music classes. I must be quite as 
 much their real chief there as I am here, and as every 
 ordinary director must be, which is only possible by 
 the establishment of a Musical Academy as a Royal In- 
 stitution, and by its connection with the orchestra in 
 Berlin. The number, too, of such concerts should not 
 be very limited, as you say, otherwise they would not 
 repay the trouble of such great preparations. In a 
 word, you may easily perceive that I can only accept 
 proposals that either define every point, or are confined 
 to my personal and not to my official position ; if the 
 two are to be blended, I cannot consent to undertake 
 them. 
 
 ’ Finding (after you left us) on more mature delibera- 
 tion that a situation as a composer is impossible, and, 
 in fact, is nowhere to be met with, it occurred to me 
 that the offer might be renewed of a public sphere of 
 activity, and that I am quite prepared to accept; it 
 must, however, be within special limits, despotic as 
 regards the musicians, and consequently imposing even 
 
THE BERLIN ACADEMY OF ARTS. 
 
 205 
 
 in outward position (not merely brilliant in a pecuniary 
 point of view), otherwise, according to my ideas, it 
 would be fatal to my authority after the very first 
 rehearsal. I merely say all this, in order to indicate to 
 you the point of the compass for which you must steer 
 your course, in your conversation with Massow, and 
 that the afiair may pursue as clear a path as possible. — 
 Ever your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Leipzig, December 20th, 1840. 
 
 Dear Brother, 
 
 You wish to have some tidings from me as to our 
 affair (for well may I call it so). The letter from 
 Massow came eight days since, and I answered it on 
 Wednesday, just as I would have written or spoken to 
 yourself, without reservation or disguise, but still with- 
 out that eager acceptance which was probably expected. 
 I think you would have been satisfied with my letter, 
 and I hope and trust Massow may be so also. He 
 wrote far less explicitly about the details of the institu- 
 tion than you did in a former letter ; he mentions the 
 salary, the direction of the classes, and the concerts to 
 be given by royal command, but without entering into 
 any further [particulars. I replied that I was so fully 
 aware of the advantage and honour of his offer, ihat I 
 feared he would be surprised by my not instantly closing 
 with it. There was but one obstacle in the way, which 
 18 
 
206 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 was, that I did not precisely know what was expected 
 from me in return for such a proposal. I then brought 
 under his notice the difficulties opposed to a hond fide 
 direction of the present classes ; and as he had men- 
 tioned that these would not now occupy much of my 
 time, but that it was expected I should, under the new 
 system, undertake additional work, I begged, therefore, 
 at least to be told what were the liniits of this system, 
 and the duties I had to perform ; that I was indeed 
 quite willing to work, but did not choose to pledge 
 myself to the performance of functions that were not 
 precisely defined. With regard to the concerts, I told 
 him my opinion as to the only mode of arranging them 
 now in Berlin; that little good could accrue from 
 merely occasional performances, even by royal com- 
 mand; for in that case all sorts of counter-influences 
 (and those I specified to him) would have full scope ; 
 that an institute must be founded exclusively for similar 
 concerts, and likewise days fixed for the rehearsals and 
 concerts, and the instruction of the performers, etc. ; 
 that I would have nothing to do with the orchestra, 
 except on this condition, that I was to be absolute 
 director-in-chief of these concerts, etc. 
 
 In short, I showed that I was well disposed to accept 
 the situation, but should require the most unqualified 
 support throughout, otherwise I could not efficiently 
 perform the duties of the office, — it being a public one. 
 I hope you agree with me on this point, for though 
 money and ready complaisance are indeed of no small 
 value, still neither are sufficient, without that entire 
 tranquillity and security about the future, which can 
 now be given if they are in earnest in the matter. T 
 
THE BERLIN ACADEMY OF ARTS. 
 
 207 
 
 can assure you that there was no undue particularity 
 in my words, but I am certain you will not blame me 
 for going on sure grounds, before giving up such a 
 position as my present one. 
 
 I considered it also my duty, before writing to 
 Massow, to communicate the circumstance under the 
 seal of the strictest secrecy to my friends here, 
 Schleinit^ and David, who are quite of my opinion, 
 that I ought to leave this, however much they regret 
 it, if my wishes are fulfilled with regard to a defined 
 position. At the same time, I purpose, in the course 
 of a few days, to make known to our Concert Director, 
 and Government President, that I have received such 
 an ojffer (without naming the place), and that it is 
 probable I may accept it. Perhaps you may not 
 approve of this, but I feel I cannot act otherwise. If 
 my negotiations with Massow were to terminate by our 
 agreeing, without my having given any hint of such a 
 transaction, it would show a want of good feeling on 
 my part, and, indeed, in my present circumstances, a 
 want of common gratitude. But this is in fact a mere 
 matter of form, for it is not probable that they will for 
 a moment think of entering into competition with the 
 recent overtures from Berhn, and yet I delay the 
 announcement from day to day, because such a step 
 must be final. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
208 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Leipzig, Jan. 2d, 1841. 
 
 Dear Paul, 
 
 Receive my heartfelt good wishes, and may Q-od 
 grant us all a happy new year ! Now I have one 
 earnest request to make. Do not allow any misunder- 
 standing between Massow and me to inipair that 
 delightful and perfect harmony between us which 
 always rejoices me and makes me so happy. I will 
 not say, let us not become more mistrustful, but not 
 even more reserved towards each other. Since the 
 great sacrifice that you unhesitatingly made for my 
 sake in coming here, I confess I am in great anxiety on 
 this subject, and it makes me very uneasy when I 
 think it possible that you may be dissatisfied with me 
 for not being prepared to accept your opinion at once, — 
 angry I do not think you will be, but, as I have already 
 said, do not permit anything whatever to be changed 
 between you and me: promise me this; you know 
 how much I have at heart our being able to live 
 together at some future day ; but if we were only to 
 pass a few untroubled years together, and I were then 
 to go on my way in vexation, that would be worse 
 than it is now, and I would gladly avoid this. I tell 
 you so, because in your letter you urge me sc 
 strongly fairly to speak out, as if I had not in my 
 answer to Massow already spoken out on many points, 
 more, perhaps, than I ought to have done. You also 
 wish to persuade me to go now to Berlin, but you will 
 soon be convinced that, this winter, such a thing is 
 impossible. I have five subscription concerts, and 
 
THE MUSICAL ACADEMY. 
 
 209 
 
 three extra concerts to direct in January, and in the 
 beginning of March, Bach’s “ Passion,” of which not a 
 single note is known here, and I certainly cannot get 
 away during the time of the concerts without injuring 
 them. But, independent of this, what should I do in 
 Berlin? The statutes of a new Academy are better 
 arranged by writing than verbally, and, from the tenor 
 of Massow’s letters, the affair does not seem so far ad- 
 vanced as to permit of its being definitively settled in 
 the course of a couple of days; at least not in the 
 sense that we mutually wish ; so, as I said, dear Paul, 
 promise me never, under any circumstances, to be dis- 
 pleased with me. 
 
 I told Massow in a letter to-day that I should be 
 happy to explain my views with regard to reorganizing 
 the Musical Academy, either to him, or to Eichhorn ; 
 for this purpose he has only to send me the statutes 
 hitherto in force, and the composition of the classes, of 
 which I am entirely ignorant, and also say how far the 
 modifications are to be carried, whether to the extent 
 of a radical change, or merely a reform ; this I must 
 learn, of course, or I should not know what to say ; I 
 will gladly devote my time and efforts to the mere 
 possibility of our once more living together, but I must 
 confess that since Massow’s last letter such a possibility 
 seems even more distant than I myself thought. It 
 sounds all so different from what they commissioned 
 you to say to me when you came here ; and if it begins 
 in such a way, no doubt the sequel will be still worse. 
 The salary they offer is certainly handsome and liberal, 
 but if they in return expect me to accept an unlimit- 
 ed obligation to work, that also would be a change 
 18 * 
 
210 
 
 MENDELSSOHN^S LETTERS. 
 
 in their proposals, and no compensation to me. The 
 salary is the only point on which Massow spoke in 
 a decided manner to me, and my position is too for- 
 tunate for mere money to influence my views. All 
 that you told me here about a rota between the differ- 
 ent directors, and the duties of the Capellmeister of 
 the Royal Chapel, and of the engagement of other 
 foreign musicians, — not a word of this was brought 
 forward; on the contrary, Massow writes to me that 
 he is glad I have declared myself satisfied with the 
 title and the salary, which is totally opposed to the 
 sense of my previous letter, in which I expressed a wish 
 to know my duties before I could explain my inten- 
 tions. Indeed, even if the alteration in the musical 
 class were to be entered into, and carried through ex- 
 actly according to my wishes, I scarcely know (as the 
 title is in question) whether I should quite like to go to 
 Berlin as “ Director of the Musical Class,” which is by 
 no means in good odour with musicians at present. I can 
 say all this to you without incurring the suspicion of a 
 fondness for titles, for what annoys me is their drawing 
 back in all their proposals; perhaps I am mistaken; 
 at all events, I hope in my letter to Massow you will 
 find no trace of the dissatisfaction which I have frankly 
 expressed to you. I shall assist in establishing the new 
 regulations as well and as firmly as possible ; in any 
 event, good service will be done to the cause, so far as 
 I can accomplish it, and if the result is to be satisfac- 
 tory, the affair must first be made clear, — not merely in 
 reference to my personal acceptance, but because it is 
 right and desirable for the affair itself, and in order 
 to enable any good musician (not merely myself) to 
 
PIETISTIC MUSIC. 
 
 211 
 
 interest themselves in it hereafter ; for now the ques- 
 tion again recurs, whether I or some other efi&cient 
 musician shall be placed at the head, and all the other 
 questions become mere secondary considerations. 
 
 Por Heaven’s sake, tell me, how came you to be 
 reading that abominable thing of Diderot’s ? He was 
 ashamed of it later in life, but the traces of his genius 
 are to be discovered even in this muddy pool. I may 
 possibly feel more mildly disposed towards him just 
 now, because two pietistic works were sent to me 
 yesterday from Berhn, so gloomy, such a perfect type 
 of the worst time of the priesthood, that I am almost 
 inchned to welcome the French with their audacity 
 and Yoltaire with his broom. Perhaps you know one 
 of these ? It is called “ Die Passion, ein kirchliches 
 Festspiel;” it is written in doggerel rhymes, and is the 
 most wretched trash I have lately read, — Heine in- 
 cluded. The other is a criticism written by a person 
 on his own oratorio, in which he exhorts the people 
 to piety and frequent communion, and says no one is 
 entitled to pronounce any opinion on his music who 
 does not listen to it in the spirit of true piety and in 
 faith. Alas I alas ! 
 
 Eemember my first request in this new year, and 
 love me as much as ever. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
212 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Leipzig, Jan. 9th, 1841. 
 
 Dear Paul, 
 
 Your letter of yesterday made me very happy ; God 
 knows why I could not get it out of my head that 
 you were angry with me for delaying an affair which 
 you wished to expedite, and have so kindly expedited. 
 I however see from your letter that I was entirely and 
 totally wrong, and I thank you much for it, and sub- 
 scribe to all you say on the subject. But there is one 
 idea you must dismiss from your thoughts as much as 
 I have done the other, and that is the dread of foreign 
 influences, as you call them, which you allude to in 
 your letter. You must not suppose that I ever act in 
 any affair but from my own conscientious impulses, far 
 less in a matter in which I myself and my happiness 
 are so very closely involved. Believe me that, in gene- 
 ral, I invariably strive to do and say nothing but what 
 I hold to be right in my conscience and instinct, and it 
 is a proof that we have, alas I hved much asunder, and 
 only met in days of enjoyment, and not of work, when 
 you fear that I am easily swayed, not only in conversa- 
 tion, but in action. hTo I all goes on very slowly with 
 me, but when at last I do a foolish thing I have at least 
 owe merit, which is, to have devised it entirely myself. 
 With regard to this special case, I probably gave you 
 cause for suspicion, by writing to you that I told my 
 friends here, David and Schleinitz, of the offer, and in 
 my last letter I did not allude to them again. I can 
 assure you, however, that both have long ago given me 
 such proofe of sincere friendship, that I could not possi- 
 
THE MUSICAL ACADEMY. 
 
 213 
 
 bly have been silent to them on this occasion, and both 
 urged my acceptance, and saw the thing in the most 
 favourable light. 
 
 That not the smallest step I have taken in the whole 
 affair may be unknown to you, I must add that I felt 
 myself obliged to communicate the circumstance can- 
 didly, some days ago, to the Ejreis-Director, Herr von 
 Falkenstein ; for in this month the money becomes due 
 which the King has the disposal of, and which, as you 
 are aware, I last winter petitioned might be appro- 
 priated to found a school of music here. The King, 
 who expressed himself in a very kind manner towards 
 me when he came to one of our subscription concerts, 
 seemed well disposed to give his consent ; then came 
 Falkenstein to ask me if I would pledge myself (which 
 really was my idea at that time) to organize this music 
 school for some years to come. I now no longer could 
 or would do this : so I thought it best to tell him the 
 whole affair. He gave me his faithful promise to pre- 
 serve the strictest silence, and I in turn agreed to give 
 him due notice if I settled to go to Berhn, because 
 that, he said, might be prejudicial to the plan of the 
 music school ; and thus it now stands. 
 
 I await the arrival of the statutes ; at all events, an 
 opportunity may then occur to render an occasional 
 service to the cause there, and to place many things on 
 a better footing, and perhaps to introduce a better sys- 
 tem into the whole class, and some good would be thus 
 effected. 
 
 The examples of which you speak in regard to 
 public opinion interested me very much, but, I own^ 
 were far from pleasing to me. I do not call that public 
 
214 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 opinion which is shown by sending anonymous and 
 libellous verses, and by hissing an old masterpiece.* 
 You wiU perhaps say this is only the beginning; but 
 that is the very point : if a thing is not rightly begun 
 it never comes to a good end, and I do not believe that 
 public tracasseries can pave the way to public opinion ; 
 indeed, I believe that such things have always existed, 
 and always will exist, independent of the vox populi, 
 which is the vox Dei. It would be more important to 
 me if you would tell me some particulars of the curiosa 
 which are related of Minister Schon ; pray do this, if 
 you possibly can. He seems to be a determined fel- 
 low I - -Y our 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Herr X . 
 
 Leipzig, January 22d, 1841. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 I beg to offer you my thanks for the confidence 
 you have shown me by your polite letter, and the ac- 
 companying music. I have looked over your overture 
 with much pleasure, and discovered many unmistaka- 
 ble traces of talent in it, so that I should rejoice to 
 have an opportunity of seeing some more new works of 
 yours, and thus to make your musical acquaintance in a 
 more intimate and confidential manner. The greater 
 part of the instrumentation, and especially the melo- 
 dious passage which is in fact the principal subject, 
 
 * The performauco of “ Athalie,” with Schultz’s music, had caused 
 considerable excitement in the Berlin Theatre, 
 
FRIENDLY CRITICISMS. 
 
 215 
 
 pleased me much. If I were to find any fault, it would 
 be one with which I have often reproached myself in 
 my own works ,* in the very overtures you allude to, 
 sometimes in a greater and sometimes in a lesser degree. 
 It is often very difficult, in such fantastical airy subjects, 
 to hit the right medium. If you grasp it too firmly, it 
 is apt to become formal and prosaic ; and if too deh- 
 cately, it dissolves into air and melody, and does not 
 become a defined form. This last rock you seem to 
 have split upon ; in many passages, especially at the 
 very beginning, but also here and there in other parts, 
 and towards the close again, I feel the want of a musi- 
 cal well-defined form, the outlines of which I can recog- 
 nize, however -misty, and grasp and enjoy. I should 
 like, besides the meno allegro^ to see some other more 
 definite idea, and to have it worked out; only then, 
 the other rock is too apt to show itself, and modulations 
 be seen, where there should be nothing but moonlight. 
 In order, however, to give free course to these poetical 
 thoughts, the spirit of entire supremacy must hover 
 over the whole (that fiict should not become too dry, 
 nor fancy too misty) ; and it is only where this com- 
 plete mastery over thought and arrangement exists, 
 that the reins may be given to imagination. This is 
 the very point which we are all obliged, more or less, 
 to study ; I hope you wiU not be offended, therefore, 
 that I do not find this problem entirely solved in your 
 work either ; in your future productions, with which I 
 hope to become acquainted, the connection will, no 
 doubt, be closer, and my critical remarks rendered 
 unnecessary. — I am, with sincere esteem, yours, 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartuoldy 
 
216 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To HIS Mother. 
 
 Leipzig, January 25th, 1841. 
 
 . . . This is the thirty-fifth letter I have written 
 since the day before yesterday ; it makes me quite un- 
 easy to see how the flood swells, if a few days elapse 
 without my stemming it and guarding against it. Va- 
 riations from Lausitz and Mayence ; overtures from 
 Hanover, Copenhagen, Brunswick, and Rudolstadt; 
 German Fatherland songs from Weimar, Brunswick, 
 and Berlin, the latter of which I am to set to music, 
 and the former to look over and take to a publisher : 
 and all these accompanied by such amiable, polite 
 letters, that I should be ashamed if I were not to reply 
 to them in as amiable and kind a manner as I possibly 
 can. But who can give me back the precious days 
 which pass away in these things ? Add to this, persons 
 who wish to be examined, eagerly awaiting my report 
 for their anxious relatives, whether they are to become 
 professional musicians or not ; two Rhenish youths are 
 here at this moment for that purpose, and the verdict is 
 to be given in the course of a few hours. It is really a 
 heavy responsibility, and I often think of La Fontaine’s 
 rat, who retired into a cheese and thence delivered 
 oracles. 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Leipzig, February 13th, 1841. 
 
 My dear Brother, 
 
 It is curious how certain years elapse, when both 
 time and people seem to stand quietly still ; and then 
 
THE BERLIN -ACADEMY OF ARTS. 
 
 217 
 
 again come weeks, when everything seems to run about 
 like biUiard-balls, making carroms, and losing and win- 
 ning hazards, etc. etc. {vide the Temperance Hotel in 
 Gohlis). Such has been the case with me during the 
 last few months. Since you were here, everything is 
 so far advanced and altered, that it would take me a 
 week at least, and walks innumerable, without letting 
 you utter a word, before I could tell you all j and pro- 
 bably it has been the same with you. 
 
 The Berhn affair is much in my thoughts, and is a 
 subject for serious consideration. I doubt whether it 
 will ever lead to that result which we both (I believe) 
 would prefer ; for I still have misgivings as to Berlin 
 being a soil where a person of my profession could feel 
 even tolerably at home, in spite of all honours and 
 money ; but the mere offer in itself gives me an inward 
 impulse, a certain satisfaction, which is of infinite value 
 to me, even if I were never to speak of it to any one ; 
 in a word, I feel that an honour has been done me, and 
 I rejoice in it. Massow writes in his last letter, which 
 I received before yours, that the King wishes to delay 
 the definitive arrangement of the Academy till I go to 
 Berlin in spring ; whether I choose to make proposals 
 in writing as to the alteration of the statutes which he 
 sends me, he leaves entirely to my own decision. As 
 this point is left to myself, and I would far rather not 
 write at all on the subject, I shall delay doing so till I 
 know to a certainty whether I go to Berlin in spring 
 or not, and only in the latter case write. Remarkable, 
 very remarkable, these statutes are, especially those of 
 the school for composition. Imagine ! out of eleven 
 different branches of instruction which they have insti- 
 
 la 
 
218 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 tuted, seven are positively useless, and indeed prepos- 
 terous. What do you think of the following, among 
 others ? No. 8. “ The relation Music bears to the 
 
 other arts, especially to the plastic and to the stage;” 
 and also No. 11, A guide to the spiritual and worldly 
 Drama.” I formerly read these things in the Govern- 
 ment paper, and laughed at them ; but when a grave 
 minister or ofiQ-cial actually sends such stuff, it is pitiable. 
 Pray do go to some public place where newspapers are 
 collected, and send me the one which advertises this 
 course, and where the teachers of the different branches 
 are named. I require these data thoroughly to under- 
 stand the affair. It is all in the worst possible state. 
 You will say this is the very reason why I should try 
 to extricate it. In that case there would indeed be 
 plenty to do, if I could only think myself the man to do 
 it : to improve what is already good, or to create what 
 is new and good, would be an undertaking that I 
 should rejoice in, and which might be learned, even if 
 there were no previous knowledge of the subject ; but 
 to change what is positively bad into better things, is 
 both a hard and a thankless task. 
 
 A very momentous change has taken place here since 
 what is called the King’s concert. You cannot think 
 what a good impulse the mere visit of the King, and 
 his really cordial and kind approbation, has imparted 
 to our concerts here. A person is almost to be envied 
 who, by pure, kindly, natural feelings, and words of 
 the same tenor, can give such an immediate impetus, 
 were it not after all quite as difficult, in such a position, 
 to preserve such feelings (which is the main point) as 
 it is with us to maintain many less essential. By his 
 
RIGHT USE OF TALENTS. 
 
 219 
 
 demeanc ir here, as well as by the way in which he has 
 sounded forth our praises in Dresden, he has facilitated 
 a number of things for us which were not thought of 
 formerly. Since that time, we have strangers from 
 Dresden at every concert, and the female singers there 
 vie with each other in their efforts to appear in public 
 here. The grant, too, of the legacy bequeathed two 
 years ago, will now probably be entirely devoted to 
 musical purposes, and perhaps be finally decided this 
 month. All these are only mere outlines; but how 
 many details I might have added during the walks I 
 alluded to I There has been one thing, however, and 
 that indeed the chief thing, which I have not been able 
 to accomplish during all these winter months, and that 
 is composition. I sent my Hymn of Praise ” to be 
 published, and have written a couple of songs ; this is, 
 however, all,' and little enough too. 
 
 jSTow, as to literature, I am but in a poor state in 
 that respect. Last week I had scarcely time to eat or 
 to sleep mj jpensum^ without being fairly stranded, and 
 no possibility of reading. I read Immermann’s “ Munch- 
 hausen ” some time ago, but only the first volume ; and 
 I must confess that the first half of it, which you too 
 do not praise, displeased me so much, that I was out 
 of sorts with, the second also, although I do not deny 
 the great beauties in the second Westphalian portion, 
 and in all those works of his which I have seen. I feel 
 
 the same with regard to X ’s critical article. When 
 
 I see an old companion, endowed by a kind Providence 
 with every good capability, roaming about for many 
 long years, employing his really fine talents in writing 
 for newspapers, and criticizing 'a book which perhaps 
 
220 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 had better never have been written (but for the money 
 the bookseller gave for it), and with these exceptions 
 bringing nothing of his own into the world, advancing 
 nothing and contributing nothing, I cannot help think- 
 ing that it is the greatest blasphemy which can be 
 committed against Providence, and so I don’t wish to 
 know anything of his clever criticisms, and feel a much 
 higher esteem for every honest bookbinder and cobbler. 
 This is, no doubt, one-sided, and too severe also ; but 
 •I know nothing worse than the abuse or non-use of 
 G-od’s gifts, and have no sympathy for those who trifle 
 with them. 
 
 Fie, for shame ! what a cynical tone I have adopted I 
 and I have not yet thanked you for all the good and 
 loving and kind things you say to me of my music ! 
 But you must not estimate it so highly in contradis- 
 tinction to that of others. To deserve all your praise, 
 it ought to be very much better; and this I hope it 
 will one day become. At all events, I think that the 
 recitative, and the middle of my “ Hymn of Praise,” 
 are more fervent and spirited than anything I have yet 
 written. When shall we be able to sing it to you ? 
 
 With this I close my letter. Write to me soon again. 
 •—Your Felix. 
 
 To Fanny Hensel, Berlin. 
 
 Leipzig, February 14th, 1841. 
 
 Salut et Frafcernite ! 
 
 Have you read the wrathful letter which the Em- 
 peror of China wrote to Lin, with a bright red pencil ? 
 
MADAME DEVRIENT. 
 
 221 
 
 Were this the fashion with us, I would write to you 
 to-day with a grass-green pencil, or with a sky-blue 
 one, or with whatever colour a pleasant pencil ought to 
 assume, in gratitude for your admirable epistle on my 
 birthday. My especial thanks also for the kind and 
 friendly interest you have shown in the faithful Eckert ; 
 he is a sound, practical musician, and further than this, 
 in my opinion (to which I sometimes adhere for twenty- 
 four hours), no man should concern himself about an- 
 other. Whether a person be anything extraordinary, 
 unique, etc., is entirely a private matter. But in this 
 world, every one ought to be honest and useful, and he 
 who is not so must and ought to be abused, from the 
 Lord Chamberlain to the cobbler. Of all the young 
 people whom I have had anything to do w^ith here, he 
 is the most good-natured, and by far the most inoffen- 
 sive ; and these are two precious qualities. 
 
 Don’t, I beg, write me anything more about your 
 Sunday music; it is really a sin and a shame that I 
 have not heard it; but, though I feel so provoked at 
 this, it is equally vexatious that you have heard none 
 of our truly brilliant subscription concerts. I tell you 
 we ghtter brightly — in Bengal fire. The other day, in 
 our last historical concert (Beethoven), Herr Schmidt 
 was suddenly taken ill, and could not sing to his Feme 
 Geliebte ” in the Liederkreis.” In the middle of the 
 first part David said, I see Madame Devrient.” She 
 had arrived that morning by rail, and was to return 
 next day. So during an interval I went up to her, was 
 vastly polite, and she agreed to sing Adelaide ; ” on 
 which an old piano was carried into the orchestra from 
 the anteroom. This was greeted with much applause, 
 19 * 
 
222 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 for people suspected that Devrient was coming. So 
 come she did, in a shabby travelling costume, and Leip- 
 zig bellowed and shouted without end. She took off 
 he’’ bonnet before the puhlicum^ and pointed to her 
 black pelisse, as if to apologize for it. I believe they 
 are still applauding! She sang beautifully, and there 
 was a grand flourish of trumpets in her honour, and the 
 audience clapped their hands, till not a single bow of 
 the shabby pelisse was any longer visible. The next 
 time we are to have a medley of Molique, Kalliwoda, 
 and Lipinsky, — and thus, according to Franck’s witti- 
 cism, we descend from Adam to Holtei. 
 
 As to the tempi in my Psalm, all I have to say is, 
 that the passage of the Jordan must be kept very 
 watery ; it would have a good effect if the chorus were 
 to reel to and fro, that people might think they saw 
 the waves ; here we have achieved this effect. If you 
 
 do not know how to take the other temp\ ask Gr 
 
 about them. He understands that capitally in my 
 Psalms. With submission, allow me to suggest that 
 the last movement be taken very slow indeed, as it is 
 called Sing to the Lord for ever and ever,” and ought 
 therefore to last for a very long time I Forgive this 
 dreadful joke. Adieu, dear Fanny. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Pastor Julius Sohubring, Dessau. 
 
 Leipzig, February 27th, 1841. 
 
 Dear Schubring, 
 
 Thank you a thousand times for your friendly letter, 
 which caused me much pleasure, and was a most 
 
THE “RHEINLIED. 
 
 223 
 
 welcome birthday gift. Our correspondence had cer- 
 tainly become rather threadbare, but pray don’t give 
 up sending me your little notes of introduction ; large 
 letters would indeed be better, but in default of these I 
 must be contented with little ones, and you well know 
 that they will always be received with joy, and those 
 who bring them welcomed to the best of my ability. 
 
 Now for my critical spectacles, and a reply about 
 your Becker E-heinlied.” I hke it very much; it is 
 well written, and sounds joyous and exhilarating, but 
 (for a hut must of course be uttered by every critic) 
 the whole poem is quite unsuitable for composition, and 
 essentially unmusical. I am well aware that in saying 
 this I rashly throw down the gauntlet both to you, and 
 many of my colleagues in G-ermany ; but such is my 
 opinion, and the worst part of it is, that I am confirmed 
 in it by most of the compositions that I know. (For 
 Heaven’s sake, let this remain a secret between us, 
 other wise, as journalists publish every trifle nowadays, 
 I may possibly be some day conveyed across the fron- 
 tiers as a Frenchman.) But, jesting apart, I can only 
 imagine music when I can realize the mood from which 
 it emanates ; mere Artistically correct tones to suit the 
 rhythm of the poetry, becoming forte when the words 
 are vehement, and piano when they are meek, sounding 
 very pretty, but expressing nothing, — I never yet could 
 comprehend; and still such is the only music I can 
 discover for this poem. Neither forcible, nor effective, 
 nor poetical, but only supplementary, collateral, musical 
 music. The latter, however, I do not choose to write. 
 In such cases, the fable of the two vases often recurs 
 to me, who set off together on a voyage, but in rolling 
 
224 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 to and fro one smashed Ins companion, the one being 
 made of clay and the other of iron. Besides, I consider 
 the poem to be neither bold nor cautious, neither 
 enthusiastic nor stoical, but only very positive, very 
 practical, very suitable indeed for many at the present 
 day; however, I cannot even momentarily interest 
 myself in any object of which I can perceive the 
 momentary nature, and from which I can expect no 
 durability. I am becoming philosophical ; pray forgive 
 me, and forgive the whole diatribe, which is uncivil 
 besides, because you composed the song yourself. 
 But, as you have an immense majority of musicians on 
 your side, you will not, I think, be offended by my 
 dissentient protestation, but probably rather disposed 
 to laugh at it. I could not help coming out with what 
 I thought. 
 
 You wish to know how I am. As well as possible. 
 Yet if we see each other in the course of a few weeks, 
 you may perhaps hear the same complaints from me 
 that you did last year. I often thought of them since, 
 and laughed at them, because I was so well and so gay ; 
 but for a week past such languor seems to creep over 
 me, that, as I told you, I might sing the very same old 
 song of a year ago. I don’t know whether this arises 
 from the approach of spring, or the enormous quantity 
 of music which I w'as engaged in during the winter, 
 and which has fairly exhausted me ; for several years 
 past the two always come together. But I believe it is 
 the latter ; I have conducted fifteen public performance 
 since January, — enough to knock up any man. Fare- 
 well, my dear friend. — ^Your 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartuoldy. 
 
A PAMPHLET BY JACOBI. 
 
 225 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Leipzig, March 3d, 1841 
 
 Dear Paul, 
 
 You gave me extreme pleasure by the brochure^ you 
 sent me yesterday, and, after having exulted not a 
 little in its contents, I must now thank you much for 
 having forwarded it to me.. I read of it in the “ Allge- 
 meine Zeitung,” but had it not been for your kindness, 
 this clever publication would not have found its way 
 to my room for many a day. I have read it through 
 twice with the deepest attention, and agree with you 
 that it is a most remarkable sign of the present time in 
 Prussia, that nothing more true, more candid, or more 
 sober in form and style could be desired, and that a 
 year ago a similar pamphlet could not have appeared. 
 In the mean while, it is prohibited, and we shall soon 
 see in how far it is merely an individual lofty spirit 
 expressing his views, or a spirit that has really im- 
 pressed and fired the whole community, for the great 
 misfortune with us has always been want of unanimity, 
 of esprit de corps. A sorrowful feeling oppresses me 
 when I so surely see, or think I see, that the path lies 
 open, level, and plain, on which the whole of G-ermany 
 might receive a development which it probably never 
 had, except in years of war, and not even then, because 
 these years of war were years of violence also, — a path 
 on which no one would lose, and all would gain in life, 
 power, movement, and activity ; this path is likewise 
 
 * The “ Yier Fragcn ” of Jacobi, a pamphlet of the day, the purport 
 and contents of which would certainly no longer cause the smallest 
 annoyance to either party. 
 
226 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 that of truth, and honour, and fidelity to promises, and 
 yet time after time it is never trodden, while new rea- 
 sons are perpetually found for avoiding it. This is 
 most melancholy I In the mean time, it is fortunate 
 that there are people who know how to set forth what 
 by far the greater number feel but cannot express. I 
 should have to quote the whole of the pamphlet, to 
 name all the particular passages written so entirely in 
 consonance with the feelings of my heart; but I 
 started up from joy at both the little paragraphs on the 
 Dantzic letter and Hanover, for they came in so natu- 
 rally, and quite as a matter of course ; and then the 
 glorious close ! As I said before, the next fortnight 
 will prove whether such a spirit has the right on his 
 side in these days, not merely in theory but in practice. 
 Grod grant it may be so ! 
 
 If you hear anything further of your statesman* (I 
 do not believe the brochure is his, though quite in ac- 
 cordance with his creed), or any more details that can 
 be communicated to me, I beg you will not fail to do 
 so. I begin to interest myself very much in this man. 
 What a glorious contrast this work forms to all the 
 French ones of last year that I have seen I Here is 
 indeed real substance, not merely subtleties ; vigorous 
 truth and inborn dignity, not merely well-bred polite- 
 ness or evasion of the laws. 
 
 But the work is prohibited I This is a humiliation, 
 even amid all my delight. Farewell ; thank you again 
 cordially for your kindness always. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 * At the time of the appearance of the “ Vier Fragen,” Minister Schiio 
 was unquestionably supposed by the public to be the author. 
 
CONCERT AT LEIPZIG. 
 
 227 
 
 To Julius Eietz, Music Director at Dusseldorf, 
 {Now Gajpellmeisier at Dresden.) 
 
 Leipzig, April 23d, 1841. 
 
 Dear Eietz, 
 
 Yesterday evening we performed your overture to 
 ‘‘ Hero and Leander ” and the Battle Song,” amid 
 loud and universal applause, and with the unanimous 
 approbation of the musicians and the public. Even 
 during the rehearsal of the overture, towards the end 
 in D major, I perceived in the orchestra those smihng 
 faces and nodding heads which at a new piece of yours 
 I am so glad to see among the players ; it pleased them 
 all uncommonly, and the audience, who ^yesterday sat 
 as still as mice and never uttered a sound, broke out at 
 the close into very warm applause^ and fully confirmed 
 the judgment of the others. I have had great delight 
 in all these rehearsals, and in the performance also; 
 there is something so genuinely artistic and so genu- 
 inely musical in your orchestral works, that I feel 
 happy at the first bar, and they captivate and interest 
 me till the very end. But, as you persist in wishing 
 me to place my critical spectacles on my nose, I must 
 teH^you that there was one wish I formed in hearing 
 both pieces : that you may now write many works in 
 succession. The chief reason for this I do not require 
 to tell you, for it lies on the surface. But I have yet 
 another wish : I perceive a certain spirit, especially in 
 the overture, which I myself know only too well, for in 
 my opinion it caused my Eeformation Symphony 
 
 An unpublished composition of Mendelssohn’s. 
 
228 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 to fail, but which can be surely and infallibly banished 
 by assiduous work of different kinds. Just as the 
 French, by conjuring tricks and overwrought sentiment, 
 endeavour to make their style harrowing and exciting, 
 so I believe it possible, through a natural repugnance 
 to this style, to fall into the other extreme, and so 
 greatly to dread all that is piquant or sensuous, that at 
 last the musical idea does not remain sufficiently bold 
 or interesting j that instead of a tumour there is a wast- 
 ing away : it is the contrast between the Jesuit 
 churches, and their thousand glittering objects, and the 
 Calvinists, with their four white walls ; true piety may 
 exist in both, but still the right path lies between the 
 two. I entreat you to pardon this preaching tone ; but 
 how is it possible to make oneself understood on such 
 subjects ? The fundamental thoughts in your overture 
 and my “ Eeformation Symphony ” (both having, in my 
 opinion, similar qualities) are more interesting from 
 what they indicate, than actually interesting in them- 
 selves ; of course I do not plead for the latter quality 
 alone (as that would lead us to the French), nor for the 
 first alone either ; both must be united and blended. 
 The most important point is to make a thema, or any- 
 thing of the kind which is in itself musical, really inte- 
 resting : this you well understand in your instrumenta- 
 tion, with every second oboe or trumpet, and I should 
 like to see you steer boldly in that direction in your 
 next works, — without, however, injuring by the greater 
 finish and sharpness of your musical thoughts, your 
 excellent foundation, or your masterly and adinirably 
 carried-out details of instrumentation, etc. As ideas 
 cannot be either more highly finished or sharpened, but 
 
REPORT TO THE KING OF PRUSSIA. 
 
 229 
 
 must be taken and made use of as they come, and as a 
 kind Providence sends them, so work is the only thing 
 which either I or others can possibly desire for such an 
 artist as yourself j and for works of art like yours, where 
 the only question is of any trifling deviation m their 
 tendency. 
 
 Report to Ms Majesty the King of Prussia,^ from the Wirk- 
 lich Geheimrath Herr von Massow. 
 
 Berlin, May 20th, 1841. 
 
 Your Majesty was pleased verbally to desire me to 
 enter into communication with Herr Felix Mendelssohn 
 Bartholdy, in Leipzig, with a view to summon him to 
 Berlin, and to fix his residence there by appointment. 
 I therefore on the 11th of December last wrote to Herr 
 Mendelssohn, in accordance with your Majesty’s com- 
 mands, and made the following offer : — 
 
 That he should be appointed Director of the musical 
 class of the Academy of Arts, with a salary of three 
 thousand thalers. 
 
 I also mentioned that it was your Majesty’s intention 
 to reorganize the musical class of the Academy, and to 
 connect it with some existing establishments for the 
 development of musical cultivation, as well as with 
 others yet to be formed; that Herr Mendelssohn’s 
 advice on the subject was requested ; that he was to be 
 
 * In this Report, the result of the negotiations with Mendelssohn, 
 which finally caused him to go to Berlin, are fully detailed, — so it was 
 considered necessary to give it a place hero. 
 
 20 
 
230 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 appointed the fiiture head of this institute. Further 
 that it was your Majesty’s pleasure a certain number 
 of concerts (to be hereafter fixed) were to be given 
 every year under his direction, with the aid of the 
 Eoyal orchestra and the members of the opera, in 
 which oratorios especially, but also other works, such 
 as symphonies, etc., were to be performed. Herr 
 Mendelssohn, in two letters addressed to me, on the 
 15th December and the 2d January, expressed his gra- 
 titude to your Majesty for so honourable an offer, as 
 well as his entire satisfaction with regard to the title 
 and the salary ; he however reserved his full acceptance 
 of the proposal until the duties involved in the situa- 
 tion offered to him in Berlin were more minutely 
 detailed. The conscientiousness thus shown by Herr 
 Mendelssohn cannot fail to be acknowledged and re- 
 spected; at the same time, he promised to come to 
 Berlin this spring. 
 
 The Academy of Arts being regulated by the Minis- 
 ierium of the departments of science, instruction, and 
 medicine, it was from this source alone that the wished- 
 for copy of the rules could be obtained for Herr Men- 
 delssohn ; as this, however, could not be immediately 
 effected. Minister Eichhorn resolved to discuss the 
 whole affair himself with Herr Mendelssohn regarding 
 the reorganization of the musical class, and your 
 Majesty was pleased to permit the affair to rest for the 
 time. Herr Mendelssohn, according to his promise, 
 recently came here, and he adheres to his resolution not 
 to accept any fixed situation in your Majesty’s service 
 till he is previously informed what duties he is expected 
 to undertake. 
 
REPORT TO THE KING OF PRUSSIA. 
 
 231 
 
 The proposed reforms in the musical section, which 
 are probably to be effected, in connection with many 
 other changes in the Academy of Arts, necessitate the 
 dissolution of existing arrangements, and the formation 
 of entirely new relations. The Royal Ministerium^ if a 
 larger musical institute were established, would put in 
 their claim for the Royal Theatre, which, by previous 
 regulations of existing institutes, must be included, 
 along with most of the artists attached to it. The sum 
 of money requisite for this purpose must be fixed and 
 granted. These are all reasons which' prevent the 
 Royal Ministerium, within so short a period, being able 
 to arrange such a comprehensive affair sufficiently to 
 lay these proposals before your Majesty, and also render 
 it impossible to define the situation for Herr Mendels- 
 sohn, or to prescribe the duties which, as Director of 
 the musical class, he must undertake to fulfil. 
 
 Herr Mendelssohn, on the other hand, must declare, 
 in the course of a few weeks, whether it is his intention 
 to give up his situation in Leipzig or not : he therefore 
 presses for a decision. 
 
 Under these circumstances, with the express stipula- 
 tion, however, of your Majesty’s approbation, I have 
 made the following proposal to Herr Mendelssohn : — 
 
 That for the present he should only for a certain 
 period fix his residence in Berhn, — say, a year, — placing 
 himself at your Majesty's disposal^ in return for which, 
 your Majesty should confer on him the title of Capell- 
 meisfer^ but without imposing on him the performance 
 of the duties of this office in the Royal Opera; like- 
 wise the previously-named salary of three thousand 
 thalers pro anno to be bestowed on him ; during this 
 
232 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 time, however, he is neither to«^hold any office, nor to 
 undertake any definite duties^ unless in the course of 
 this period Herr Eichhorn should furnish him with the 
 long-wished-for details, and he should declare himself 
 satisfied with them, in which case the reserved consent 
 as to a definitive nomination should ensue. 
 
 Herr Mendelssohn has already assured me that he is 
 prepared to accept the proposal, and if your Majesty be 
 pleased to give your consent, Herr Eichhorn would 
 gain time to consult with Herr Mendelssohn on this 
 affair, and to place distinct proposals before your Ma- 
 jesty. From the well-known honourable character of 
 Herr Mendelssohn, it may be confidently anticipated 
 that in this kind of interim relation he will be the more 
 anxious to devote all his powers to your Majesty, from 
 the very fact of his duties not being more closely de- 
 fined. Such a relation, however, can only be advisable 
 for a certain time ; one year has therefore been agreed 
 on. If, contrary to expectation, the re-organization of 
 the musical class of the Academy and the establishment 
 of a musical institute be not so carried out as to cause 
 Herr Mendelssohn the conviction of finding a field of 
 activity for his bent and his vocation, or if the claims 
 on him should prevent his acceptance, or, lastly, — 
 which I subjoin at the express desire of Herr Mendels- 
 sohn, — should the expectations now entertained by 
 your Majesty with regard to him not be fulfilled, then 
 the relation now formed shall be dissolved at the end 
 of the appointed period on the above conditions, and 
 therefore, in an honourable manner. 
 
 Herr Eichhorn, whom I have informed of the pro- 
 posal made through me to Herr Mendelssohn, and also 
 
ACADEMY OF MUSIC AT BERLIN. 
 
 233 
 
 of his acceptance, has, on his side, stated no objec- 
 tions. 
 
 Yonr Majesty’s decision is respectfully solicited at 
 your pleasure; and, awaiting your Majesty’s further 
 commands, I am, with the deepest reverence. 
 
 Your Majesty’s faithful servant, 
 
 V. Massow. 
 
 Memorandum hy Mendelssohn^ on the subject of a Music 
 Academy to be established at Berlin. 
 
 Berlin, May, 1841. 
 
 It is proposed to establish a German Music Academy 
 in Berlin, to concentrate in one common focus the now 
 isolated efforts in the sphere of instruction in art, in 
 order to guide rising artists in a solid and earnest direc- 
 tion, thus imparting to the musical sense of the nation 
 anew and more energetic impetus; for this purpose, 
 on one side, the already existing institutes and th(ur 
 members must be concentrated, and on the other, the 
 aid of new ones must be called in. 
 
 Among the former may be reckoned the various 
 Koyal Academies for musical instruction, which must 
 be united with this Musical Academy, and carried on 
 as branches of the same, with greater or less modifi- 
 cations, in one sense and in one direction. In these 
 are included, for example, the Institute for Eleves of 
 the Royal Orchestra ; the Organ Institute ; that of the 
 Theatre (limited to the theatre alone) for instruction in 
 singing, declamation, etc. Further, the members of 
 the Royal Ca'pdle must be required to give instruction 
 20 * 
 
234 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 on their various instruments. A suitable locality can 
 no doubt be found among the royal buildings, and also 
 a library, with the requisite old and new musical 
 works, scores, and book^. 
 
 The new appointments to consist of — 
 
 1. A head teacher of composition ; the best that can 
 be found in Germany, to give regular instructions in 
 theory, thorough-bass, counterpoint, and fugues. 
 
 2. A head teacher of solo singing ; also the best to 
 be had in Germany. 
 
 3. A head teacher of choral singing, who should strive 
 to acquire personal influence over the scholars under 
 his care, by good pianoforte -playing and steady direc- 
 tion. 
 
 4. A head teacher of pianoforte-playing, for which 
 office a man of the most unquestionable talent and 
 reputation must alone be selected. The other teachers 
 for these departments could be found in Berlin itself; 
 nor would there be any difficulty in procuring teachers 
 of Esthetics, the history of music, etc. 
 
 The complete course to last three years ; the scholars, 
 after previous examination, to be instructed gratis ; no 
 prize works to be admitted but at stated periods ; all 
 the works of the scholars, from the time of their admis- 
 sion, to be collected and criticized in connection with 
 each other, and subsequently a prize (probably consist- 
 ing of a sum sufficient for a long journey through 
 Germany, Italy, France, and England) to be adjudged 
 accordingly. Every winter a certain number of con- 
 certs to take place, in which all the teachers (including 
 the above-named members of the Royal Capelle) must 
 co-operate, and by which, through the selection of the 
 
THE PROPOSED MUSICAL ACADEMY. 
 
 235 
 
 music, as well as by its execution, direct influence may 
 be gained over the majority of the public. 
 
 The following principle must serve as a basis for the 
 whole Institute : that every sphere of art can only ele- 
 vate itself above a mere handicraft, by being devoted 
 to the expression of lofty thought, along with the 
 utmost possible technical finish, and a pure and intel- 
 lectual aim; that also solidity, precision, and strict dis- 
 cipline in teaching and learning should be considered 
 the first law, thus not falling short in this respect of 
 any handicraft ; that in every department, all teaching 
 and learning should be exclusively devoted to the 
 thoughts intended to be expressed, and to that more 
 elevated mood, to which technical perfection in art 
 must ever be subordinate. 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Barthold y. 
 
 Leipzig, July 9 th, 1841. 
 
 Dear Brother, 
 
 I send you, with this, a copy of the Minister Eich- 
 horn’s letter, which I received this evening. It is evi- 
 dent from it that the King only intends to make me 
 Capellmeister if the plan for the Academy is carried 
 out ; not otherwise. If this be his irrevocable determi- 
 nation, I have only to choose between two alternatives ; 
 to go to Berhn on the 1st of August without the title, 
 and without any further public appointment, and merely 
 receive the salary there, or at once to break off all 
 further negotiations on the matter, and never to renew 
 them. 
 
236 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 Now, I must confess, first, that I could not without 
 unpleasant feelings enter on an office, after having con- 
 siderably abated my own demands; secondly, that I 
 still find all those reasons valid, now as heretofore, 
 which made such a title necessary, in Herr Massow’s 
 opinion, as well as in my own, in order to enable me to 
 give the desired concerts and performances in the course 
 of the winter ; and, thirdly, it appears to me only just 
 that from the first I should receive a public proof of 
 the King’s confidence ; for, very possibly, after the lapse 
 of a year no renewal of the relation may be desired on 
 the other side, in which case I alone shall be the losing 
 party, for they only risk conferring a title for nothing, 
 while I lose my present situation, and you know that 
 this costs me no smad sacrifice. I beg you will com- 
 municate this letter and Eichhorn’s to Yon Massow. 
 He will observe that his proposals, and the results of 
 my whole residence in Berlin, are again detailed, so that 
 I must go to Berlin under very different circumstances, 
 which, as I said, I am very unwilling to do. Hear what 
 Massow says, and let me know. Do not forget to place 
 strongly before him that I always thought it probable, and 
 now more likely than ever, that no definitive arrange- 
 ment about the Academy would take place in one 
 year,— not, indeed, from any fault on my side, or from 
 any want of complaisance in me, but from want of de- 
 cision on their part. I therefore wished at that time, 
 and wish now, that there should be something definite, 
 for which I am called to Berlin. I cannot say to any one 
 that the mere direction of the Academy is a sufficient 
 purpose. If they choose to make me Greheimsecre- 
 tar,” instead of Capellmeister, I am equally content, 
 
ACCEPTANCE OF THE PROPOSAL. 
 
 237 
 
 but I should like to have some ostensible ground for 
 going there, if I am to go at all ; probably the affair 
 will be now more complicated by my having in the 
 mean while received the much-discussed tide (deuce 
 take it !) in Saxony ; they will say, what is the use of 
 a second ? and pronounce it to be obstinacy on my part. 
 I appeal, however, to the above reasons, and think, on 
 the contrary, that it proves I did not, or do not, insist 
 on this point from any love of a title. 
 
 Pray, pray forgive me, dear Brother ; you have most 
 cause to complain; for in any case I shall reap some 
 advantage, having at the worst gained valuable ex- 
 perience, but you only much plague and lost time (even 
 at the best, by which I mean my remaining in Berlin). 
 Forgive me. — Ever your 
 
 Felix.* 
 
 To Carl Klingemann, London. 
 
 Leipzig, July 15th, 1841. 
 
 My dear Friend, 
 
 To-morrow I go with some pleasant friends to Dres- 
 den to hear Ungher and Moriani sing, to see Raphael 
 and Titian paint, and to breathe the air of . that lovely 
 region. A few days after my return I am off for a year 
 
 * Massow’s proposals were finally accepted by Mendelssohn, who 
 came to Berlin; there were many conferences held as to the remodel- 
 ling of the musical clnss in the Acndemy, and the organization of the 
 future Conservatorium ; but, as Mendelssohn very justly foresaw, all 
 this evaporated, though from no fault of his, which the beginning of 
 Minister Eichhorn’s letter of the 2d March, 1845. fully proves. 
 
238 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 to Berlin, one of the sourest apples a man can eat, and yet 
 eaten it must be. Strangely enough, there seems to be a 
 misunderstanding between us on this affair, and hitherto 
 we have scarcely ever had one. You think I want your 
 advice, and mean to act according to it ; but, in fact, 
 when I say anything to you, or discuss anything, I say 
 it and do it from no other reason than from instinct. 
 I must speak to you or discuss whatever is of importance 
 to me, or nearly concerns me ; it cannot be otherwise, 
 and this proceeds so little from that tiresome asking for 
 advice, that I am convinced, if you had not answered me 
 at all, and if we had not spoken to each other for ten 
 years, I should have asked you the same questions, and 
 expected your answer as eagerly and received it with as 
 much pleasure as now. There is a curious misappre- 
 hension on your part with regard to the comparison be- 
 tween the two cities. You believe (and several of the re- 
 sidents here, as well as strangers, have told me the same) 
 that here in Leipzig we have comfort, domestic life, and 
 retirement, and in Berlin, public efficacy in and for 
 Germany, and active work for the benefit of others, 
 etc., etc. ; whereas it is in truth exactly the reverse. It 
 is just because I am so unwilling to be burdened with 
 a sinecure, the public active efficiency which you so 
 urged on me formerly, and which seemed to myself so 
 necessary, having become gradually dear to me, and 
 nothing of the kind being possible in Berlin, — it is for 
 these very reasons I go there unwillingly. There, all 
 efforts are private efforts without any echo in the land, 
 and this they certainly do have here, small as the 
 nest is. I did not establish myself in Leipzig with a 
 view to a quiet life * on the contrary, I felt a longing 
 
HIS NEW POSITION AT BERLIN. 
 
 239 
 
 to do so, because here all is so gaj and motley. On 
 the other hand, I have mastered and learned many 
 things which could only be thus mastered and learned ; 
 nor have I been idle, either ; I think I am on a better 
 footing with my countrymen in Grermany, and have 
 gained their confidence more than I should probably 
 have done all my life long in Berlin, and that is worth 
 something, too. That I am now to recommence a pri- 
 vate life, but at the same time to become a sort of 
 schoolmaster to a Conservatorium, is what I can 
 scarcely understand, after my excellent vigorous orches- 
 tra here. I might perhaps do so if I were really to 
 enjoy an entirely private life, in which case I should 
 only compose and live in retirement ; but the mongrel 
 Berlin doings interfere, — the vast projects, the petty 
 execution, the admirable criticism, the indifferent musi- 
 cians, the liberal ideas, the Court officials in the streets, 
 the Museum and the Academy, and the sand ! I doubt 
 whether my stay there will be more than a year ; still 
 I shall ‘of course do all in my power not to allow this 
 time to pass without some profit to myself and others. 
 I shall have no solitude during the time, for I must 
 bestir myself and write what I can ; a couple of earlier 
 melodies may bring up the rear-guard. Many others 
 have come to light since their date ; you see I defend 
 myself vigorously, with claws and teeth. Believe me, 
 Berlin is at the present day the city which is the least 
 efficacious, and Leipzig the most beneficial to the pub- 
 lic. Bo you know what I have recently been compos- 
 ing with enthusiasm ? Yariations for the j)iario, — ■ 
 actually eighteen on a theme in D minor; and they 
 amused me so famously, that I instantly made fresh 
 
240 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 ones on a theme in E flat major, and now for the third 
 time on a theme in B flat major. I feel quite as if I 
 must make up for lost time, never having written any 
 before. 
 
 To Conoert-Meister Ferdinand David, Leipzig. 
 
 Berlin, August 9th, 1841. 
 
 Dear Friend, 
 
 You wish to hear some news about the Berlin Con- 
 servatorium : so do I ; but there is none. The affair is 
 on the most extensive scale, if it be actually on any 
 scale at all, and not merely in the air. The King seems 
 to have a plan for reorganizing the Academy of Arts ; 
 this will not be easily effected, without entirely chang- 
 ing its present form into a very different one, which 
 they cannot make up their mind to do ; there is little 
 use of my advising it, as I do not expect much profit 
 for music from the Academy, either in its present or 
 future form. The musical portion of the new academy 
 is, I believe, to become a Conservatorium ; but to reor- 
 ganize one part alone, is an idea which cannot be 
 entertained under any circumstances, so it depends now 
 on the three others. A director is not yet found for 
 the architectural department, and in the four different 
 departments the existing members cannot (or at least 
 will not) be superseded, or their privileges diminished : 
 so these members must first dii^ off; but we must die 
 off as well as they, and whether the reorganization will 
 then take place in the wished- for manner is the question 
 
HIS NEW POSITION AT BERLIN. 
 
 241 
 
 One service I have at all events accomplished here, in 
 having placed these relations in a clear light, and free 
 from all circumlocution, — so that there will be no 
 longer any necessity to refer to these projects, or the 
 discussions connected with them, until the obstacles are 
 removed. 
 
 You will ask, then, what in the world do they want 
 with me just now in Berlin ? My answer is, on the 
 one side, I really do not know ; on the other, I believe 
 that it is intended to give, during the winter, some 
 great concerts, with the addition of all their best means, 
 and that I am to direct them, some in church, and some 
 in the concert-hall ; but whether they will ever take 
 place seems to me very doubtful ; at all events these 
 are, in my opinion, the only projects which can or will 
 be carried out at this time. 
 
 To President Yerkenius, Cologne. 
 
 Berlin, August 14th, 1841. 
 Dear and esteemed Herr President, 
 
 Though so much dehghted by recognizing on the 
 address of your letter of yesterday the well-known 
 writing, I was equally grieved by the grave and mourn- 
 ful tone of your words, and I cannot tell you how 
 much the intelligence of your continued illness alarms 
 and distresses me. It is, indeed, often the case, that, 
 in moments of indisposition, everything seems to us 
 covered with a black veil, — that illness drags within its 
 domain not only the body, but also the spirit and the 
 21 
 
242 
 
 MENDELSSOHN^S LETTERS. 
 
 thoughts (thus it is always with me when I am ailing 
 or ill), but with returning health these mournful images 
 are chased away. Grod grant this may be the case with 
 you, and soon, too, very soon ; such sorrowful moments, 
 however, are not less distressing at the time, though 
 they quickly pass away and are forgotten. Would that 
 I could do anything to make you more cheerful, or to 
 drive away such sad thoughts I These are the mo- 
 ments when distance seems doubly painful; when 
 cordially-loved and honoured friends are in suffering, 
 and yet we must go on living apart from them, instead 
 of being near to sympathize with them, even if unable 
 to do them good or to alleviate their troubles. 
 
 You say that my letters are agreeable to you. I 
 shall therefore frequently write ; let me know if I do 
 so too often ; and Heaven grant that, in return, I may 
 soon receive good news of your recovery, from your- 
 self, or one of your family I 
 
 I have now been a fortnight here with my family, and 
 am living with my mother and brother and sisters, in 
 the very same house wliich I quitted twelve years ago 
 with a heavy heart. The more unaccountable is it to me 
 that, in spite of the delight of being with my mother 
 and family once more, in spite, also, of every advantage, 
 and many and glad memories, there is scarcely a place 
 in aU G-ermany where I feel so little at home as here. 
 The reason of this may be, that all the causes which 
 formerly made it impossible for me to begin and to 
 continue my career in Berlin, and which drove me 
 away, still subsist, just as they formerly did, and are 
 likely, alas ! to subsist to the end of time. There is the 
 same frittering away of all energies and all people, the 
 
DISLIKE OF BERLIN. 
 
 243 
 
 same unpoetical striving after outward results, the same 
 superfluity of knowledge, the same failure in production, 
 and the same want of nature, the same illiberality and 
 backwardness as to progress and development, by 
 which, indeed, though the latter are rendered safer and 
 less dangerous, still they are robbed of all merit and of 
 all life. I believe that these qualities will one day be 
 reproduced here in all things ; that it is the case with 
 music, there can be no doubt whatever. The King has 
 the best inclination to alter and to improve all this ; 
 but if he were to hold fast his will steadily for a suc- 
 cession of years, and were he to lind none but people 
 with the same will, working unweariedly in accordance 
 with it, — even then, results and happy consequences 
 could not be anticipated till after a succession of years 
 had elapsed ; yet here these are expected first and fore- 
 most. The soil must be entirely ploughed and turned 
 up before it can bring forth fi:uit, at least so it seems to 
 me in my department; the musicians work, each for 
 himself, and no two agree ; the amateurs are divided 
 and absorbed into thousands of small circles ; besides, 
 all the music one hears is, at the best, only indifferent ; 
 criticism alone is keen, close, and well-studied. These 
 are no very flattering prospects, I think, for the ap- 
 proaching period, and to ‘‘ organize this from the foun- 
 dation ” is not my affair, for I am deficient both in ta- 
 lent and inclination for the purpose. I am, therefore, 
 waiting to know what is desired of me, and probably 
 this will be hmited to a certain number of concerts, 
 which the Academy of Arts is to give in the coming 
 winter, and which I am then to direct. In my next 
 letter, I will write you some musical details. Heaven 
 
244 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 grant that I may soon be tranquillized about your 
 recovery, and may we meet again in cheerfulness and 
 health; God grant it! — Ever your faithful 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To President Yerkenius, Cologne. 
 
 Berlin, August 23d, 1841. 
 
 Dear Herr President, 
 
 You see that I take advantage of your permission, 
 and write constantly ; if it be too much for you, let 
 me know it, or do not read my letters. May it please 
 God that I shall soon receive good news of your re- 
 turning health I I think of it every day, and I wish it 
 every day 1 In my previous letter I promised you some 
 details of musical life here, so far as I am acquainted 
 with it. Unfortunately, there is very little that is 
 cheering to relate. Here, as everywhere else, it is prin- 
 cipally the committees which ought to be answerable 
 for this ; while, as these are appointed, more or less, by 
 the public, I cannot make the distinction which seems 
 so usual with the Berliners, who abuse and revile all 
 committees, both musical and others, and yet like to 
 see them remain in their old form. The whole tendency 
 of the musicians, as well as of the dilettanti^ is too little 
 directed to the practical ; they play chiefly that they 
 may talk about it, before and afterwards: so the dis- 
 cussions are better and wiser than in most other places in 
 Germany, but the music more defective. Unfortunately, 
 there is very little to discuss wHh regard to music and 
 
STATE OF MUSIC AT BERLIN. 
 
 ^45 
 
 its deficiencies ; the only thing to be done is to /eel, 
 and to improve it ; so I have not the least idea how it 
 is ever to become better. In the orchestra (excellent 
 as some individual members of it are) this is, alas I too 
 perceptible. In operas and symphonies, I have heard 
 blunders, and false notes constantly played, which could 
 only proceed from the grossest carelessness. The people 
 are royal functionaries, and cannot be brought to ac- 
 count, and if the conversation turns on these faults 
 afterwards, they strive to .prove that there is no such 
 thing as time, or should be none, — what can I say? 
 but item^ it goes badly. I have played my trio ten or 
 twelve times here ; on each occasion the same mistakes 
 were made in the time, and the same careless blunders 
 in the accompaniment, though they were the first artists 
 here who played with me. The blame of this state of 
 things rests chiefly on Spontini, who was for so long a 
 period at their head, and who rather oppressed than 
 sought to elevate and improve the many excellent 
 musicians in this orchestra. My conviction is, that 
 Spohr would be the man to aid them, and to restore 
 proper order ; but just because he is so, h^ will not be 
 elected; too many talk about it, and wish to have 
 everything in ideal beauty ; and this produces medio- 
 crity. The dilettanti doings are even worse. Their 
 chief organ and institution is the Academy for Sing- 
 ing, and there each individual considers himself far 
 superior to the Director. But if they really did all 
 know properly how things should be, they would sing 
 better together, — whoever directed, — and the false 
 notes, and errors in time, would disappear, — ^but they 
 by no means disappear. So here, again, it is mostly 
 21 * 
 
246 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 all talk. I lately heard Pasta in “ Semir amide.” She 
 sings now so fearfully out of tune, especially in the 
 middle notes, that it is quite painful to listen to her 
 but, of course, the splendid remains of her great talent, 
 the traces of a first-class singer, are often unmistakable. 
 In any other city, this dreadful want of tune would 
 have been felt first of all, and, afterwards, the remem- 
 brance that she was a great artist would have recurred; 
 here every one said, beforehand, that here was the 
 Pasta, she was old, she could not longer sing in tune, 
 so this must be put out of the question. In other 
 places, they would perhaps have unjustly abased her ; 
 here they as unjustly praised her to the skies, and after 
 deliberate reflection, and entire consciousness of the 
 state of things, they continued to be dehghted : this is 
 a bad kind of delight ! 
 
 How hypochondriacal this letter is become ! I 
 ought rather to write to you in a gayer strain, to cheer 
 you. Next time I shall try to find a more rose- 
 coloured aspect; forgive the dark-brown hues of to- 
 day.* With the most heartfelt and cordial wishes for 
 your recovery, I am always, your loving 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 * T^e death of President Yerkenius ended the correspondence Ij 
 this Letter. 
 
nis PROSPECTS AT BERLIN. 
 
 247 
 
 To Franz Hauser, 
 
 {Present Director of the Conservatorium in Munich.) 
 
 Berlin, October 12th, 1841. 
 
 ... I do not know what you have been told about 
 Berlin and its prospects. If, however, you allude to 
 the project of which all the people and all the journals 
 are speaking, that of establishing a Musical Conserva- 
 torium here, then I regret to be obliged to say that I 
 know no more about it than every one else seems to 
 know. It is said the desire for it exists, and perhaps a 
 remote prospect, but far too remote for anything to be 
 told about it with the least certainty at present. 
 Years may pass away, nothing may ever come of it 
 (which is not at aU improbable), and also it may soon 
 be again discussed. During the last three months 
 which I passed here I came to this conclusion, on see- 
 ing the proceedings more closely. I am so kindly 
 received on every side, that personally I can wish for 
 nothing better, and have only cause for gratitude. But 
 though it is easy for a person here to do what he 
 chooses, it is proportionably difficult to aid the cause ; 
 and yet that is, after all, the most important point, and 
 should be the very first. If I only knew how to make 
 this better! In the mean while I write music, and 
 when asked a question I answer it. 
 
248 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To Concert-Meister Ferdinand David, Leipzig. 
 
 Berlin, October 21st, 1841. 
 
 Dear David, 
 
 Thanks for your having at once read through Anti- 
 gone.” I felt assured beforehand that it would please 
 you beyond measure when you did so ; and the very 
 impression which reading it made on me, is in fact the 
 cause of the affair being accomphshed. There was a 
 great deal of talking about it, but no one would begin ; 
 they wished to put it off till next autumn, and so forth ; 
 but as the noble style of the piece fascinated me so 
 much, I got hold of old Tieck, and said ‘^ISTow or 
 never !” and he was amiable, and said “Now!” and so 
 I composed music for it to my heart’s content; we 
 have two rehearsals of it daily, and the choruses are 
 executed with such precision that it is a real delight to 
 listen to them. All in Berlin of course think that we 
 are very sly, and that I composed the choruses to 
 become a court favourite, or a court musicus^ or a court 
 fool; while at the beginning I thought, on the con- 
 trary, that I would not mix myself up with the affair ; 
 but the piece itself, with its extraordinary beauty and 
 grandeur, drove everything else out of my head, and 
 only inspired me with the wish to see it performed as 
 soon as possible. The subject in itself was glorious, 
 and I worked at it with heartfelt pleasure. It seems 
 to me very remarkable that there is so much in art 
 quite unchangeable. The parts of all these choruses 
 are to this day so genuinely musical, and yet so different 
 from each other, that no man could wish anything finer 
 for his composition. If it were not so difficult here to 
 
ANTIGONE. 
 
 249 
 
 come to any kind of judgment about a work I There 
 are only shameless flatterers, or equally shameless cri- 
 tics, to be met with, and there is nothing to be done 
 with either, for both from the very first deprive us of 
 all pleasure. As yet I have had only to do with admi- 
 ration. After this performance the learned will, no 
 doubt, come forward and reveal to me how I should 
 and must have composed, had I been a Berhner. — 
 Tour 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To Professor Dehn, Berlin.* 
 
 Berlin, October 28th, 1841, 
 
 Sir, 
 
 The kind and amiable feelings which your letter of 
 yesterday testified towards me caused me great plea- 
 sure, and I beg to thank you very sincerely and truly. 
 Although I entirely agree with you that my choruses 
 to Antigone ” will furnish an opportunity for a num- 
 ber of unfair and malignant attacks, still I cannot meet 
 these unpleasant probabilities by the means which you 
 are so good as to propose to me. I have always made 
 it an inviolable rule, never to write on any subject 
 connected with music, in newspapers, nor either direct- 
 ly or indirectly to prompt any article to be written 
 on my own compositions; and although I am well 
 aware how often this must be both a temporary and sen- 
 
 * In answer tL the Professor’s offer to write, or to cause to be writ 
 ten, something in his musical paper with regard to “ Antigone.” 
 
250 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 Bible disadvantage, still I cannot deviate from a resolu- 
 tion which I have strictly followed out under all circum- 
 stances. I dechne, therefore, accepting your obliging 
 offer ; but I beg you will believe that my gratitude for 
 the friendly intentions you expressed remains the 
 same j and, in the hope of soon finding an opportunity 
 to repeat this assurance in person, I am, etc.* 
 
 To Professor Kostlin, Tubinoen. 
 
 Berlin, December 15th, 1841. 
 
 . . . When I was lately in society, I was seated next 
 a lady at supper who spoke the South G-erman dialect, 
 and seemed at home in Stuttgart, so I thought I 
 would ask her if she knew anything of Tubingen, and 
 inquired about Professor Kostlin. She said she did not 
 know him, but one of her acquaintances had written to 
 her that he had been recently betrothed. This was the 
 first happy news. She did not know the name of the 
 bride, but so far she remembered, that she was from 
 Munich, and a fine musical genius. I had instantly a 
 presentiment. I vowed it must be Josephine Lang. 
 She thought it was another name ; but she would look 
 at the letter when she went home. JSText morning I 
 got a note. The bride of Herr Kostlin is Josephine 
 Lang, after all, and he has been recently in Munich, and 
 then in Stuttgart with her,” etc. Had it not been for 
 this last piece of intelligence, I would have written to 
 you instantly, to offer you both my congratulations and 
 
 * Compare also his letter to Julius Stern of the 27th of May, 1844. 
 
MADEMOISELLE LANG. 
 
 251 
 
 to express my most heartfelt joy. Now I nave got 
 your welcome letter, and the details of the piece of 
 good news the South G-erman lady told me ; first, then, 
 receive my thanks for it, and then accept my fervent 
 prayers for a blessing on your fortunate union, my 
 wishes for health for you and your bride (happiness and 
 every other good you already have), and my cordial, 
 most cordial sympathy in all connected with you both, 
 now and for the future. Whatever concerns you con- 
 cerns me also. If I were not the most miserable cor- 
 respondent in the world, I should have written to your 
 bride six months ago, to thank her for the two books 
 of songs she published. I have done so in thought 
 twenty times at least. It is long since I have seen any 
 new music so genial, or which affected me so deeply, as 
 these charming songs; their appearance was equally 
 unexpected and welcome, not only to me, but to all 
 those whose predilections are in accordance with my 
 own, who participate in my love of music, and feel in a 
 similar manner with myself. I sent my sister a copy 
 at the time from Leipzig, but when it arrived she had 
 already bought one, without our ever having corre- 
 sponded on the subject. The “ poem,” in F sharp major, 
 is, I think, best of all, and the “ Lenau Meer,” in 0 
 major, and the “ Fruhlingskinder ” in E, and the Goe- 
 the’schen geliebten Baume ” in D ; I also think the 
 “ Blumauer’sche ” in F major I wonderfully lovely. 
 Nothing more charming could be devised than the 
 happy way in which they prattle together, one after the 
 other telhng their tale, and all so delicate and sportive, 
 and a httle amorous too. In so many passages in both 
 books, I thought I heard Josephine Lang’s voice, though 
 
252 
 
 MENDELSSOHNS LETTERS. 
 
 it is a long time now since I have heard her sing ; but 
 there are many inflections peculiar to her, and which 
 she inherits from the grace of Grod, and when such a 
 turn occurred in the music, she made a little turn with 
 her head ; and in fact the whole form, and voice, and 
 manner, were once more placed before my eyes by 
 these songs. I intended to have written all this to her, 
 and to have thanked her a thousand times in my name, 
 and in that of all my friends. Now this will come 
 sadly in the background, for our cordial congratulations 
 must take place of everything else, and prevent any 
 other topic being alluded to. But when you tell her 
 of these, tell her at the same time what pleasure she 
 caused us all. 
 
 For Heaven’s sake, urge her to continue composing. 
 It is really your duty towards us all, who continually 
 long and look for good new music. She once sent me 
 a collection of the music of various composers, with 
 some of her own, saying that among so many master- 
 works she hoped I would view her attempts with indul- 
 gence, etc. Oh, G-emini ! how petty many of these 
 chefs-d'oeuvre appear beside her fresh music I So, as I 
 said, instigate her strongly to new compositions. 
 
 If I have still a wish to form, it is that your blissful 
 betrothal mood may be continued in marriage ; that is, 
 may you be like me, who feel every day of my life that 
 I cannot be sufficiently thankful to God for my happi- 
 ness. 
 
 Do not punish me for my laziness as a correspondent. 
 I really cannot contrive to write a tolerably sensible 
 letter to-day ; still, you must write to me from time to 
 time. If it were by music I should not complain, for 
 
LETTER TO HIS MOTHER. 253 
 
 yrnhr music is speech, though probably you have other 
 things to think of. 
 
 And now farewell for to-day, and remember kindly 
 your devoted 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To his Mother. 
 
 London, June 21st, 1842 
 
 Dear Mother, 
 
 Your letter of yesterday was most charming, and 
 gave us so much pleasure,* that I must thank you for 
 it in detail to-day ; I could scarcely do so as I wished 
 for the previous one, containing quite a kaleidoscope of 
 events in Berlin, which through the glasses of your 
 description assumed constant novel and pleasing forms. 
 If I could write half as well, you should receive to-day 
 the most charming letter, for we are daily seeing the 
 most beautihil and splendid objects ; but I am some- 
 what fatigued by the incessant bustle of this last week, 
 and for two days past I have been chiefly lying on the 
 sofa reading Wilhelm Meister,” and strolling through 
 the fields with Klingemann in the evening, to try to 
 restore myself 
 
 So, if the tone of this letter is rather languid and 
 weary, it accurately paints my feehngs. I have really 
 been urged to do too much. Lately, when playing the 
 organ in Christ Church, hTewgate Street, I almost 
 thought, for a few moments, I must have been sufib- 
 
 * Mendelssolm and his wife. 
 22 
 
254 
 
 MENDELSSOHNS LETTERS. 
 
 Gated, so great was the crowd and pressure round my 
 seat at the organ ; and two days afterwards I played in 
 Exeter Hall before three thousand people, who shouted 
 hurrahs and waved their handkerchiefs, and stamped 
 with their feet till the hall resounded with the uproar ; 
 at the moment I felt no bad effects from this, but next 
 morning my head was confused and stupefied. Add to this 
 the pretty and most charming Queen Victoria, who looks 
 so youthful, and is so gently courteous and gracious, who 
 speaks such good German and who knows all my music 
 so well, — the four books of songs without words and 
 those with words, and the symphony, and the Hymn 
 of Praise.” Yesterday evening 1 was sent for by the 
 Queen, who was almost alone with Prince Albert, and 
 who seated herself near the piano and made me play to 
 her; first seven of the “songs without words,” then 
 the serenade, two impromptus on “ Kule Britannia,” 
 Lutzow’s “Wilde Jagd,” and “ Gaudeamus igitur.” The 
 latter was somewhat difficult, but remonstrance was 
 out of the question, and, as they gave the themes, of 
 course it was my duty to play them. Then the splendid 
 grand gallery in Buckingham Palace where they drank 
 tea, and where two boars by Paul Potter are hanging, 
 and a good many other pictures which pleased me well. 
 I must tell you that my A minor symphony has had 
 great success with the people here, who one and all 
 receive us with a degree of amiability and kindness 
 which exceeds all I have ever yet seen in the way of 
 hospitality, though this sometimes makes me feel my 
 head quite bewildered and strange, and I am obliged 
 to collect my thoughts in order not to lose all self- 
 possession. 
 
HIS POPULARITY IN ENGLAND. 
 
 255 
 
 June 22d — To-day, however, I can continue my letter 
 in a more cheerful spirit ; I have slept away my weary 
 mood, and feel again quite fresh and well. Yesterday 
 evening I played my concerto in D minor, and directed 
 my “ Hebrides ” in the Philharmonic, where I was re- 
 ceived like an old friend, and where they played with 
 a degree of enthusiasm which caused me more pleasure 
 than I can describe. The people make such a fuss with 
 me this time that I feel really quite abashed ; I believe 
 they clapped their hands and stamped for at least ten 
 minutes after the concerto, and insisted on the He- 
 brides” being repeated. The directors are to give a 
 dinner at Greenwich next week, and we are to sail 
 down the Thames in corpore and to make speeches. 
 They talk of bringing out ‘‘Antigone” at Co vent Gar- 
 den as soon as they can procure a tolerable translation. 
 Lately I went to a concert in Exeter Hall where I had 
 nothing whatever to do, and was sauntering in quite 
 coolly wi'ch Klingemann, — in the middle of the first 
 part, and an audience of about three thousand present, 
 — when just as I came in at the door, such a clamour, 
 and clapping, and shouting, and standing up ensued, 
 that I had no idea at first that I was concerned in it ; 
 but I discovered it was so. On reaching my place, I 
 found Sir Kobert Peel and Lord Wharnclifie close to me, 
 who continued to applaud with the rest till I made my 
 bow and thanked them. I was immensely proud of my 
 popularity in Peel’s presence. When I left the concert 
 they gave me another hurrah. 
 
 Oh ! how splendidly Mrs. Butler, at Chorley’s, lately 
 read aloud Shakespeare’s “Antony and Cleopatra; ” wo 
 have always been on the most friendly terms since oui 
 
256 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 acquaintance twelve years ago, when she was Miss 
 Fanny Kemble ; and she gave this reading in honour 
 of me, and quite too beautiful it was ; and Lady Morgan 
 was there, and Winterhalter, and Mrs. Jameson, and 
 Duprez, who afterwards sang a French Romance of a 
 starving old beggar, and another of a young man losing 
 his reason, with the refrain^ Le vent qui vient a tra- 
 vers la montagne me rendra fou! ” “Sweet! ” said the 
 ladies; and Benedict,. and Moscheles, and the Grotes — 
 who can enumerate them all I This evening at seven 
 o’clock we dine with Bunsen, and, as we do not know 
 what to do with our evening afterwards, we shall pro- 
 bably drive to Charles Kemble’s about eleven o’clock 
 and be among his early guests ; the late ones will not 
 arrive till after midnight. We have, too, such invariably 
 bright and beautiful weather. One day lately we saw 
 first in the morning the Tower, then the Katharine 
 Docks, then the Tunnel, and ate fish at Blackwall, had 
 luncheon at Greenwich, and home by Beckham ; we 
 travelled on foot, in a carriage, on a railway, in a boat, 
 and in a steamboat. The day after to-morrow we in- 
 tend to go to Manchester for a couple of days, and next 
 week be on our way back to Frankfort. I have given 
 up the musical festival at the Hague, though they 
 pressed me very hard to go there for my “ Hymn of 
 Praise.” I wish to have nothing to do with music 
 during the next few weeks. 
 
 I have still a vast deal to say to Fanny about the 
 Bridgewater Collection, where pictures and sketches 
 by Hensel are hanging up, and Sutherland House, and 
 Grosvenor House, etc., etc. ; and to Rebecca, about the 
 meeting of scientific men at Manchester, to which I 
 
ADVICE TO A FRIEND. 
 
 257 
 
 was invited, but unfortunately I could not go to greet 
 Whewell. Jacoby and Enke were also there; I alone 
 was absent. 
 
 But I must conclude. May we soon have a happy 
 meeting, dearest Mother, and dearest Brother and 
 Sisters. — Youi 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Carl Eckert, Paris. 
 
 Berlin, January 26th, 1842. 
 
 Dear Eckert, 
 
 I have been long in your debt for an answer to your 
 kind letter; pray forgive this. I have been living such 
 a stirring, excited life this year, that I am more than 
 ever unable to carry on any correspondence. I need 
 not tell you the great pleasure I felt in hearing from 
 you, and always shall feel every time that I do so. You 
 know how entirely you won my regard during the 
 years when you resided in Leipzig, and how highly I 
 both honour and estimate your talents and your cha- 
 racter. It is really difficult to say which, in the pre- 
 sent day, should be considered most important; without 
 talent nothing can be done, but without character just 
 as httle. We see instances of this day after day, in 
 people of the finest capacities, who once excited great 
 expectations, and yet accomplish nothing. May Heaven 
 bestow on you a continuous development of both, in 
 the same measure that within the last few years you 
 have made progress ; or, rather, bestow all this on your- 
 self ^ for Heaven can do no more than endow you with 
 22 * 
 
258 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters 
 
 the germs and capabilities for this end, with which it 
 has already so richly endowed you : the rest becomes 
 the adair, and the responsibility, of each individual. 
 Such a preaching tone must sound very strange to you, 
 living in joyous Paris ; but it is a part of the world and 
 of life, that every wild animal has its own special skin 
 and roar, so I continue to roar in my old tones. 
 
 Hofrath Forster sent me yesterday your ‘‘Lieder 
 ohne Worte,” and your overture, so I have occupied 
 myself with little else than with you and your compo- 
 sitions, and heartily rejoice in both ; in the former from 
 the memory of the past, and in the latter from the 
 pleasure of the present. Both yesterday and to-day I 
 have looked through, and played through, your charm- 
 ing “ Lieder ” with the greatest delight ; they all please 
 me, and are thorouglily genial, earnest music. More, 
 more, a thousand times more, in this and every other 
 style I The overture in F sharp major, too, caused me 
 great pleasure, and suits me almost throughout ; a few 
 passages only seem to me rather too amplified : we 
 must not write, however, but speak on this subject 
 when we meet again, although the only really import- 
 ant thing I have to say with regard to your music, I 
 have already said in this letter, — more, more ! You 
 have reached a standard that may in every relation 
 well be called a mastership, which all musicians or 
 friends of music must highly esteem, and beyond which 
 nothing actually extrinsic (whether it be called erudi- 
 tion or recognition, facility and knowledge, or honour 
 and fame) is any longer worth striving for ; but this is, 
 in my opinion, just che time when true work really first 
 begins. The question is tlien solely what is felt and 
 
VISIT TO LEIPZIG. 
 
 259 
 
 experienced within a man’s own breast, and uttered 
 from the depths of his heart, be it grave or gay, bitter 
 or sweet' — character and life are displayed here ; and 
 in order to prevent existence being dissipated and 
 wasted when brilliant and happy, or depressed and de- 
 stroyed when the reverse, there is but one safeguard, — 
 to work, and to go on working. So, for your sake, I 
 have only one wish, that you may bring to light what 
 exists within you, in your nature and feelings, which 
 none save yourself can know or possess. In your 
 works, go deeper into your inmost being, and let them 
 bear a distinct stamp ; let criticism and intellect rule as 
 much as you please in all outward questions and forms, 
 but in all inner and original thought, the heart alone, 
 and genuine feeling. So work daily, hourly, and unre- 
 mittingly , — there you never can attain entire mastery 
 or perfection ; no man ever yet did, and therefore it is 
 the highest vocation of life. 
 
 I was three weeks in Leipzig not long since, where 
 I was well amused, and both heard and assisted in 
 much good music. One morning I went to the Klen- 
 gels’; it was on the Wednesday of the fast-week, at 
 eleven o’clock in the forenoon ; the old gentleman was 
 sitting in his dressing-gown at the piano. As during 
 the whole week there had been no rehearsal of any con- 
 cert, he had made ISTanne sing a little. The conversa- 
 tion turned on Julius’s “ Lieder.” If we only had an 
 alto !” said they. I offered to sing falsetto ; the music 
 was brought, and good red wine beside. We sat round 
 the table, and sang all his songs, which dehghted me 
 exceedingly, and some of yours also. I had a great 
 deal to do that morning, but I stayed on till half-past 
 
260 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 one o’clocK, and could not resolve to come aw'ay. See 
 if you can find such mornings in Paris 1 And you in 
 Berlin,” you will reply. 
 
 Now, farewell; continue your regard for me, and 
 ever believe me your friend, 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To HIS Mother. 
 
 Interlachen, August 18th, 1842. 
 
 My dearest Mother, 
 
 Do you still remember our staying, twenty years 
 ago, in a pretty small inn here, shaded by large walnut- 
 trees (I sketched some of them), and our lovely young 
 landlady ? When I was here ten years ago, she refused 
 to give me a room, I looked so shabby from my pedes- 
 trian journey ; I believe that was the only real vexa- 
 tion I at that time experienced during the whole course 
 of my tour. Now we are living here again as substan- 
 tial people. The Jungfrau, with her silver horns, 
 stands out against the sky, with the same delicate, ele- 
 gant, and pointed outlines, and looks as fresh as ever. 
 The landlady, however, is grown old, and had it not 
 been for her manner I should never have recognized 
 her to be the same person. I have again sketched the 
 walnut-trees, much better than I did at that time, but 
 far worse than they deserve ; the post in Untersee 
 brings us letters from the same house as it did then, 
 and many new houses are built ; and the Aar gurgles 
 and glides along as rapid, and smooth, and green as 
 ever , — iime time waSj time is past, I have, in fact, 
 
SWITZERLAND. 
 
 261 
 
 nothing more to write about, except that we are all 
 well, and think of you daily and hourly.* 
 
 Descriptions of Switzerland are impossible, and in- 
 stead of a journal, such as I formerly kept, I this time 
 sketch furiously, and sit in front of a mountain, and try 
 to draw its likeness, and do not give it up till I have 
 quite spoiled the sketch ; but I take care to have at 
 least one new landscape in my book every day. He 
 who has not seen the G-emmi knows nothing of 
 Switzerland ; but this is what people say of every new 
 object in this most incredibly beautiful country. With 
 regard to this land, I feel just as I do about clever 
 books; when one is exchanged for another, in every 
 exchange a new phase presents itself, always equally 
 fine and equally admirable. So now, when I see this 
 country with my wife, I have quite a different impres- 
 sion from the previous times ; then I wished forthwith 
 to climb every crested mountain, and to run into every 
 meadow; this time, on the contrary, I should like to 
 stay everywhere, and to remain for months in one spot. 
 I am by no means sure that some fine spring I may not 
 set off, bag and baggage, not returning to the North 
 till all the leaves are gone. Such, at least, are my 
 daily thoughts, and castles in the air. In a few days 
 we are going into Oberland ; I rejoice at the thoughts 
 of the full moon in Lauterbrunn. We then return 
 here, across Furka and Grimsel to the Lake of Lucerne 
 and the Righi, and thence away from the land of all 
 lands, and back to Germany, — where it is not so bad, 
 after all. I own there are many days when the world 
 
 * The party consisted of Meridelssotin and his brother, and thei? 
 wives. 
 
262 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 pleases me most exceedingly. I am writing fine novel- 
 ties, dear Mother ! Forgive me, for I have nothing 
 better to say ; besides, I know that Paul wrote to you 
 at full length a few days ago. When we meet, I shall 
 have a tale to tell that will know no end. I wish I 
 only knew whether I am to remain in Berlin perma- 
 nently, or merely for a few weeks. How gladly would 
 I write to you that it was to be the former ! but the 
 whole affair has taken so many strange twists and turns 
 of late, that I feel quite astray and bewildered when I 
 try to think what is to be done. On my return it will 
 all come right, no doubt. Do not be displeased with 
 me, I entreat, on account of this prolonged uncertainty j 
 it is no fault of mine. — ^Ever your 
 
 . Felix, 
 
 To HIS Mother. 
 
 Zurich, September 3(1, 1842. 
 
 Dear Mother, 
 
 I am not so hard-hearted a correspondent as to rest 
 satisfied with only writing to you once from Switzer- 
 land. Indeed, our Swiss expedition is drawing nearly 
 to a close for the present. There are few more herds- 
 men’s huts to be seen ; neither glaciers, nor anything 
 of the kind ; rocks, and so forth, just as httle ; but we 
 still have the greenish-blue lake, and the clean houses, 
 and the bright gardens, and a chain of mountains, such 
 as could only stand on the confines of a land like this. 
 So my greetings to you all once more from Switzer- 
 land I How beautiful all has been, and most thorough- 
 
SWITZERLAND, 
 
 263 
 
 ly have we enjoyed it ! A gay mood, perfect health, 
 and clear weather, combined to impress all the marvels 
 indehbly on our souls. We were obliged to give up 
 the expeditions we had planned the last few days, 
 owing to the rain, and mists, and unfavourable 
 weather ; unfortunately the Righi was among the 
 number, and the Schaffhausen Rheinfall, neither of 
 which is there any chance of our seeing, for the 
 weather continues cloudy, and the air very cold and 
 comfortless for a journey. But, with these two excep- 
 tions, we have seen everything in as great beauty as 
 we could have wished or expected ; and I am particu- 
 larly delighted that, on the last fine forenoon, I accom- 
 phshed my expedition over the Surene (‘^Durch der 
 Surener furchtbar Eisgebirg,” vide William Tell”). On 
 the same afternoon it began to rain in Engelberg, and 
 next day I was obliged to tramp through the whole of 
 the Unterwalden under an umbrella, nor has it ever 
 been fair since. I sought out my former guide, and we 
 mutually recognized each other, to our great joy.* He 
 is now the landlord of the Crown ” in Meiringen. 
 Dearest Mother, recommend the man and his house to 
 all your correspondents. I am quite determined to 
 write to London and ask Murray to praise the “ Crown ” 
 in Meiringen, in his next red Gruide-book to Switzer- 
 land ; he can do so with a clear conscience. Michael 
 has a good house, an extremely pretty wife, and five 
 fine children, for whom I bought a few little trifles and 
 gome toy soldiers in Untersee, and thus we had a happy 
 meeting after the lapse of eleven years. He brought 
 me the words of the song in Gr major he sang at that 
 
 ♦ See Mendelssolin’s Letters in 1831. 
 
264 
 
 MENDELSSOHN 9 LETTERS. 
 
 time, the melody of which I had retained, but always 
 plagued myself in vain about the verses. When I told 
 him that we wished to go to the Grimsel, he got very 
 red, and said, “ Then I must go too — I must go.” He 
 intrusted the public room (which is his department) to 
 the care of a friend, and was ready next morning with 
 his mountain staff and blouse, and led the horses past 
 some awkward places, and the ladies past the most 
 dangerous ones, and us too, when it was possible to cut 
 off the distance by footpaths ; and the people in Glut- 
 tann laughed at seeing him again. “ It is only for a lit- 
 tle while,” said he ; and a man who was making hay 
 called out to him, “ Oho, Michael, so you can’t give up 
 being a guide yet ?” He confided to me, that it did 
 sometimes seem hard to be obliged to do so, and if he 
 did not think of his wife and children, who knows what 
 might happen? We separated on the Grimsel. This 
 was a pleasant episode. I have sketched a great deal, 
 and taken much trouble, but more than a mere scrawl 
 cannot be accomplished here. Still, it may serve as a 
 kind of diary, and as such I feel an attachment to all 
 the old leaves in my book, and to the present on 
 also. 
 
 Kiicken has just been with me ; he is going to Paris, 
 having composed an opera, which he is anxious to have 
 performed first in Berlin ; he got the libretto from a 
 man in Vienna. The Faulhorn, Meyerbeer, Eungenha- 
 gen, the Briinig, the Lungernsee, Donizetti, and the 
 drivers, enlivened the conversation by turns, — ^not for- 
 getting the Conservatorium in Berlin, and the Grimsel 
 and Furka in the snow. But what kind of letter is 
 this? Paul is resolved to see Zurich, so I must con- 
 
HECOMMENDATION OF A FRIEND. 
 
 265 
 
 elude. I feel as if you must be provoked at my chit- 
 chat, all about nothing. Well, then, we are all per- 
 fectly hale and hearty, and love you very dearly, and 
 think of you always and everywhere, and send you a 
 thousand greetings, and hope for a joyful meetings 
 Such is, after all, the chief substance of eAmry letter we 
 long for, and so it is of this one also. Au revoir^ 
 dearest Mother. — Ever your 
 
 Eelix. 
 
 To A. SiMRocK, Bonn. 
 
 Frankfort, September 21st, 1842. 
 
 Dear Herr Simrock, 
 
 I write to you to-day on a particular subject, relying 
 on your most entire discretion and perfect secrecy ; but 
 I know too well from experience your kindly feeling 
 towards myself, to doubt the fulfilment of my wish, 
 and in full confidence in your silence I shall now come 
 to the point. During my stay here I heard by chance 
 
 that my friend and colleague in art, Herr X , had 
 
 written to you about the publication of some new 
 works, but hitherto had received no answer. How, 
 both in the interest of art, as well as in that of my 
 friend, I should indeed be very glad if the answer were 
 to prove favourable ; and, as I flatter myself that you 
 place some value on my opinion and my wish, it oc- 
 curred to me to write to you myself on the subject, and 
 to beg of you, if you possibly can, to make some of 
 my friend’s works known to the G-erman public. My 
 wi«sh for the secrecy which I beg you to observe to^ 
 23 
 
266 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 wards every one and under all circumstances^ is owing to 
 
 this : that I feel certain Herr X would be frantic 
 
 if he had the most remote idea that I had taken such a 
 step on his behalf. I know that nothing would be 
 more intolerable to him than not to stand absolutely on 
 his own ground, and therefore he never must know of 
 this letter; but, on the other hand, it is the positive 
 duty of one artist towards another to assist as much as 
 possible in overcoming diflS.culties and annoyances, 
 when such efforts are noble and in a good cause, and 
 both of these are so to the highest degree in this case. 
 I therefore beg you to publish some of his compositions, 
 and, above all, if possible, to enter into a more per- 
 manent connection with him. I am well aware that 
 the German publishers have not hitherto had any very 
 brilliant success (as it is called) with the works he has 
 written, and whether this may be otherwise in future 
 I cannot pretend to say ; but that they well deserve to 
 succeed, is a point on which I have no doubt ; and on 
 that account, and solely on that account, I now make 
 my request. Were it not so, however great a friend 
 he might be of mine, I would not do this. In fact, the 
 only consideration which ought to have any influence 
 is the intrinsic value of a work, — that being the only 
 thing which would inevitably insure success, if there 
 were any honesty in the world. It is too provoking to 
 hear the oft-told tale of clever, meritorious artists, who, 
 at the beginning of their career, are in such a state of 
 anxious solicitude that their works should be purchased 
 and made known, and when one of these chances to 
 make a good hit, and gains great applause and becomes 
 vastly popular, still this success does not cause him 
 
RECOMMENDATION OF A FRIEND. 267 
 
 satisfaction equal to all his previous anxiety and vexa- 
 tion ; for this very reason I should like you to act 
 differently, and to place more value on true worth than 
 on any chance result. This system, in fact, must soon 
 be abolished, and in such a case the only question is, 
 how soon ? and after how many more annoyances ? and 
 this is just the point where a publisher can be useful 
 and valuable to an artist. When universal popularity 
 ensues, they are all ready enough to come forward, but 
 I think you are the very man to act differently, not 
 losing sight of the ideal, but also doing what is prac- 
 tical and right. Forgive the liberty I have taken, and, 
 if possible, comply with my wish. So far as I have 
 heard, there is no pretension to any considerable sum 
 for these works, but a very strong desire that they may 
 be generally circulated and made known, and that the 
 correspondence should be carried on in a friendly artistic 
 spirit. If you will or can enter into the affair, I rely 
 on your sacred silence as to my interference, my name, 
 or my request. If I shortly hear from my friend that 
 you have written to him in a kind manner, and have 
 agreed to assist him in making the public familiar with 
 his songs and pianoforte works, how heartily shall I 
 then rejoice! Perhaps you will say, what does this 
 lazy composer, and still more lazy correspondent, mean ? 
 But I have improved in the latter respect, as the figura 
 proves; and with regard to the former, I mean to set 
 to work shortly, and to overwhelm you with music- 
 paper (as soon as it is well filled), and to request in my 
 own name what I now so urgently and anxiously en- 
 treat in that of my friend. — Ever yours, with esteem 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
268 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To A. SiMRocK, Bonn. 
 
 Berlin, October 10th, 1842. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 If I ever was agreeably surprised by any letter, it 
 was by yours, which I received here yesterday. Your 
 kind and immediate compliance with my request, and 
 also the very handsome present you make me for my 
 Songs without Words,” render it really difficult for me 
 to know how to thank you, and to express the great 
 pleasure you have conferred on me; I must confess 
 that I had not expected such ready courtesy, and satis- 
 factory comphance with my letter of solicitation. I 
 now doubly rejoice in having taken a step which a feel- 
 ing of false shame, and that odious worldly maxim, 
 Don’t interfere in the affairs of others,” which occur- 
 red to me while writing, nearly deterred me from car- 
 rying out. Your conduct, as displayed in your letter 
 of yesterday, has confirmed me more than ever in what 
 I esteem to be good and right ; so I intend to lay aside 
 for ever the (so-called) highly-prized worldly wisdom, 
 and henceforth to pursue a straightforward course 
 according to my own first impulse and feeling; if it 
 fails a hundred times, still one such /success is ample 
 compensation. What artist, too, would not, at the 
 same time, be highly delighted by the kind manner in 
 which you allude to my compositions, and evince your 
 approbation? Who would not prize and esteem this 
 beyond all other recognition ? I ought especially to 
 feel thus, and, by hereafter producing better works, 
 strive to deserve the good and friendly feeling shown 
 to me for my present ones. I hope one day, in some 
 
SONGS WITHOUT WORDS. 
 
 269 
 
 degree at least, to succeed in doing so ; and if not, you 
 will at all events know that neither good will nor 
 earnest efforts were wanting. So I thank you for the 
 fulfilment of my request, I thank you for the flattering 
 and handsome present, and, above all, I thank you for 
 your kindly sentiments about myself and my music, 
 both of which are so much indebted to you, and which 
 will filU me with gratitude and pleasure so long as 1 
 live — I am, with esteem, your 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To Marc-Andre Souchay, Lubeck.* 
 
 Berlin, October loth, 1842. 
 
 . . . There is so much talk about music, and yet so 
 little really said. For my part I believe that words do 
 not suffice for such a purpose, and if I found they 
 did suffice, then I certainly would have nothing more 
 to do with music. People often complain that music 
 is ambiguous, that their ideas on the subject always 
 seem so vague, whereas every one understands words ; 
 with me it is exactly the reverse, — not merely with 
 regard to entire sentences, but also as to individual 
 words ; these, too, seem to me so ambiguous, so vague, 
 so unintelligible when compared with genuine music, 
 which fills the soul with a thousand things better than 
 words. What the music I love expresses to me, is not 
 thought too indejiaite to be put into words, but, on the 
 
 * Herr Souchay had asked Mendelssohn the meanings of some of his 
 “ Songs without Words.” 
 
270 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 contrary, too definite. I therefore consider every effort 
 to express such thoughts commendable ; but still there 
 is something unsatisfactory too in them all, and so it is 
 with yours also. This, however, is not your fault, but 
 that of the poetry, which does not enable you to do 
 better. If you ask me what my idea is, I say — ;just the 
 song as it stands ; and if I have in my mind a definite 
 term or terms with regard to one or more of these 
 songs, I will disclose them to no one, because the words 
 of one person assume a totally different meaning in the 
 mind of another person, because the music of the song 
 alone can awaken the same ideas and the same feelings 
 in one mind as in another, — a feeling which is not, 
 however, expressed by the same words.* Kesignation, 
 melancholy, the praise of God, a hunting-song, — one 
 person does not form the same conception from these 
 that another does. Eesignation is to the one what 
 melancholy is to the other ; the third can form no lively 
 idea of either. To any man who is by nature a very 
 keen sportsman, a hunting-song and the praise of God 
 would come pretty much to the same thing, and to such 
 a one the sound of the hunting-horn would really and 
 truly be the praise of God, while we hear nothing in it 
 but a mere hunting-song ; and if we were to discuss it 
 ever so often with him, we should get no further. 
 Words have many meanings, and yet music we could 
 both understand correctly. Will you allow this to 
 serve as an answer to your question ? At all events, it 
 
 * Goethe also says, in the fourth part of “ Dichtung und Wahrheit,” 
 “ I have already hut too plainly seen that no one person understands 
 another ; that no one receives the same impression as another from the 
 very same words.” 
 
DIRECTORSHIP OF CHURCH MUSIC. 271 
 
 is the only one I can give, — altlioiigli these too are 
 nothing, after all, but ambiguous words I 
 
 To WiRKLICH GrEHEIMRATH HeRR VON MaSSOW. 
 
 Berlin, October 23d, 1842. 
 
 Your Excellency, 
 
 Permit me respectfully to ask whether you will be 
 so good as to assist in procuring me an audience of his 
 Majesty, to place before him my present position here, 
 and my wishes with regard to it. 
 
 Your Excellency is aware that I am not so situated 
 as to be able to accept the proposal of Herr Eichhorn 
 to place myself at the head of the whole of the Evange- 
 lical Church music here. As I already told the Minis- 
 ter (and your Excellency quite agreed to this in our 
 last conversation), such a situation, if considered practi- 
 callpj must either consist of a general superintendence 
 of all the present organists, choristers, schoolmasters, 
 etc., or of the improvement and practice of the singing 
 choirs in one or more cathedrals. Neither of these, 
 however, is the kind of work which I particularly 
 desire. Moreover, the first of these functions is super- 
 fluous if such places are properly filled ; and the second, 
 to be really effectually carried out, demands more vast 
 and comprehensive regulations and greater pecuniary 
 resources than could be obtained at this moment. 
 
 With regard to the other plans which were proposed, 
 partly for the reorganization of the present Institute, 
 and partly for the establishment of a new one, diflicul* 
 
272 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 ties have arisen which render the establishment of 
 these plans void ; and thus the case now occurs which 
 your Excellency may remember I always anticipated, 
 much to my regret, at the very beginning of our corre- 
 spondence in December, 1840, — there is no opportunity 
 on my side for a practical, influential, musical efficiency 
 in Berlin. 
 
 Herr Eichhorn declared that this would be altered in 
 the course of time, — that everything was being done 
 in order to bring about a different state of things ; and 
 he requested me to wait with patience till the building 
 was completed which it was proposed to erect. 
 
 I think, on the contrary, that it would not be re- 
 sponding properly on my part to the confidence the 
 King has placed in me, if I were not at once to employ 
 my energies in fulfilling what your Excellency at that 
 time told me, in the name of the King, were his de- 
 signs; if, instead of at least making the attempt to 
 animate and ennoble my art in this country (as your 
 Excellency was pleased to say), I were to continue to 
 work for myself personally ; if I were to wait instead 
 of to act. The very depth of my gratitude for such 
 flattering confidence constrains me to say all this can- 
 didly to his Majesty, — to state that circumstances, over 
 which I have no control, now render the fulfilment of 
 his commands impossible. 
 
 My wish is that his Majesty would permit me in the 
 mean time to reside and to work and to await his com- 
 mands in some other place, where I could for the mo- 
 ment be useful and efficient. As soon as the building 
 is finished of which Herr Eichhorn spoke, or so soon 
 as the King required any service from, me, I should 
 
LETTER TO THE KING OF PRUSSIA. 273 
 
 consider it a great happiness to hasten back and to ex- 
 ert my best energies for such a Sovereign, whose man- 
 dates are in themselves the highest rewards for an artist. 
 
 I would fain have written this to the King sooner, 
 but when I reflected that my communication would only 
 meet his Majesty’s eye among a vast number of others, 
 I thought I could express my views and feelings of 
 most sincere gratitude more plainly and better verbally, 
 even if only by a few words ; and that your Excellency 
 may be so obhging as to promote my wish is my pre- 
 sent request, and the object of this letter. — I am, your 
 Excellency’s most devoted 
 
 Felix M. B. 
 
 To His Majesty the King of Prussia.* 
 
 Berlin, October 28th, 1842. 
 
 Four Majesty, 
 
 In the memorable words your Majesty was pleased 
 to address to me, you mentioned that it was intended 
 to add a certain number of able singers to the existing 
 Eoyal Church choirs, to form a nucleus for these choirs, 
 as well as for any amateurs of singing who might sub- 
 sequently wish.to join them, serving as a rallying-point 
 and example, and in this manner gradually to elevate 
 and to ennoble church music, and to insure its greater 
 development. 
 
 Also, in order to support the singing of the congre- 
 gation by instruments, which produce the most solemn 
 and noble effects, — as your Majesty may remember, 
 
 ♦ The following letter contains the result of the audience requested. 
 
274 
 
 MEf^DELSSOHN’s LETTERS. 
 
 during the celebration of the Jubilee in the Mcolai 
 Church, — it is proposed that a small number of instru- 
 mentalists (probably selected from the members of the 
 Eoyal Orchestra) should be engaged, who are also in- 
 tended to form the basis for subsequent grand perform- 
 ances of oratorios, etc. 
 
 The direction of a musical choir of this instructive 
 nature, a genuine Eoyal Orchestra, your Majesty ex- 
 pressed your intention to intrust to me, but, till its 
 formation, to grant me entire freedom of choice with 
 regard to my place of residence. 
 
 The execution of this plan will fulfil to the utmost 
 all my wishes as to pubhc musical efficiency ; I can 
 never cease to be grateful to your Majesty for it, and I 
 do not doubt that the organization of such an institution 
 could be effected here without any serious difficulties. 
 
 But I would request your Majesty not to devolve 
 this organization on me personally, but merely to per- 
 mit me to co-operate with my opinion and advice, 
 which I shall always be gladly prepared to give. Until, 
 however, to use your Majesty’s own expression, the 
 instrument is ready on which I am hereafter to play, I 
 wish to make use of the freedom of action so graciously 
 accorded me, and shortly to return to Leipzig, for the 
 direction of the Town Hall concerts. The orders which 
 your Majesty was pleased to give me, I shall there with 
 the utmost zeal and to the best of my abilities carry 
 into execution ; at the same time I entreat your Ma- 
 jesty, as I am engaged in no public sphere of action 
 here till the organization of the Institute, and am till 
 then to enjoy entire liberty, to be allowed to give up 
 one-half of the salary previously granted to me, so long 
 
THE PROPOSED BERLIN ACADEMY. 275 
 
 as I take advantage of this entire freedom from 
 work. 
 
 In repeating my heartfelt thanks for all the favours 
 which your Majesty has so liberally bestowed on me, 
 I am, till death, your Majesty’s devoted servant, 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To Carl Klingemann, London. 
 
 Leipzig, November 23d, 1842. 
 
 We are now again settled in Leipzig, and fairly esta- 
 blished here for this winter and till late in th^spring. 
 The old locahties where we passed so many happy days 
 so pleasantly are now rearranged with all possible com-' 
 fort, and we can live here in great comfort. I could no 
 longer endure the state of suspense in Berlin; there 
 was in fact nothing certain there, but that I was to 
 receive a certain sum of money, and that alone should 
 not suffice for the vocation of a musician ; at least I felt 
 more oppressed by it from day to day, and I requested 
 either to be told plainly I should do nothing (with which 
 I should have been quite contented, for then I could 
 have worked with an easy mind at whatever I chose), 
 or be told plainly what I was to do. As I was 
 again assured that the results would certainly insure 
 my having employment, I wrote to Herr von Massow 
 begging him to procure me an audience of the King, 
 that I might thank him verbally, and endeavour to ob- 
 tain my dismissal on such and such grounds, requesting 
 turn to communicate the contents of this letter to his 
 
276 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 Majesty; this he did, and appointed a day for the 
 audience, at the same time saying that the affair was 
 now at an end, the King very much displeased with 
 me, and that it was his intention to take leave of me in 
 very few words. He had made me some proposals in 
 the name of the King to which I could not altogether 
 agree, and with which I do not now detain you, as 
 they led to nothing, and could lead to nothing. So I 
 was quite prepared to take my leave of Berlin in very 
 bad odour, however painful this might be to me. I 
 was at length obliged also to speak to my mother on 
 the subject, and to break to her that in the course of 
 eight days I must return to Leipzig ; I could not have 
 beheved that this would have affected her so terribly as 
 it actftblly did. You know how calm my mother 
 usually is, and how seldom she allows any one to have 
 a glimpse of the feelings of her heart ; and therefore it 
 was doubly and trebly painful to me to cause her such 
 a pang of sorrow, and yet I could not act otherwise ; 
 so next day I went to the King with Massow, — the 
 most zealous friend I have in Berlin — and who first 
 took a final leave of me in his own house. The King 
 must have been in an especial good humour, for, instead 
 of finding him angry with me, I never saw him so 
 amiable and so really confidential. To my farewell 
 speech he replied : he could not indeed compel me to 
 remain, but he did not hesitate to say that it would 
 cause him heartfelt regret if I left him ; that, by doing 
 so, all the plans which he had formed from my presence 
 in Berlin would be frustrated, and that I should leave a 
 void which he could never fill up. As I did not admit 
 this, he said if I would name any one capable of carry- 
 
INTERVIEW WITH THE KING. 
 
 277 
 
 ing such and such plans into execution as well as ke 
 believed I could do, then he would intrust them to the 
 person I selected, but he felt sure I should be unable to 
 name one whom he could approve of. The following 
 are the plans which he detailed at full length ; first of 
 all, to form a kind of real capelle^ that is, a select choir 
 of about thirty very first-rate singers, and a small 
 orchestra (to consist of the elite of the theatrical orches- 
 tra) ; their duties to consist in church music on Sun- 
 days and at festivals, and, besides this, in performing 
 oratorios and so forth ; that I was to direct these, and 
 compose music for them, etc. etc. ‘‘Certainly,” said 
 T, “if there were any chance of such a thing here, if 
 this were only accomphshed it was the very point 
 at issue on which I had so much insisted. On which 
 he replied, again, that he knew perfectly well I must 
 have an instrument to make music on, and that it 
 should be Ms care to procure such an instrument of 
 singers and players ; but when he had procured it, he 
 must know that I was prepared to play on it ; till then 
 I might do as I liked, return to Leipzig, or go to Italy, 
 — in short, be entirely unfettered; but he must have 
 the certainty that he might depend on me when he 
 required me, and this could only be acquired by my 
 remaining in his service. Such was at least the essen- 
 tial substance of the whole long conversation ; we then 
 separated. He said I was not to give him my decision 
 immediately^ because all difficulties could not be for the 
 moment entirely obviated ; I was to take time to con- 
 sider, and to send my answer to Massow, who was pre- 
 sent during the whole of this conversation of an hour 
 and a quarter. He was quite flushed with excitement 
 21 
 
278 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 when we left the room, repeating over and over again, 
 Surely you can never now think of going away !’* 
 and, to tell you the truth, I thought more of my dear 
 mother than of all the rest. In short, two days after- 
 wards I wrote to the King, and said that after his 
 Avords to me I could no longer think of leaving his ser- 
 vice, but that, on the contrary, my best abilities should 
 be at his command so long as I lived. He bad men- 
 tioned so and so (and I repeated the substance of our 
 conversation), that I would take advantage of the 
 liberty he had granted me, and remain in Leipzig until 
 I was appointed to some definite sphere of work ; on 
 which account I begged to relinquish one-half of my 
 salary, so long as I Avas not really engaged in active 
 work. This proposal he accepted, and I am now here 
 again with my wife and child. I have been obliged 
 definitively to decline the ofiers of the King of Saxony ; 
 but, in order to do so in the most respectful manner, I 
 went to Dresden a few days after my return here, 
 thanked the King once more verbally, and entreated 
 him not the less to bestow the twenty thousand thalers 
 (which an old Leipziger bequeathed in his will to the 
 King for the establishment of an Academy of Art) to 
 found a school for music in Leipzig, to which he gra- 
 ciously acceded. The official announcement came the 
 day before yesterday. This music school is to be 
 organized next winter, at least in its chief features; 
 when it is established, I may well say that I have been 
 the means of procuring a permanent advantage for music 
 here. If they begin anything solid in Berlin, I can 
 settle there with a clear conscience ; if they allow the 
 matter to stand over, it is probable that I may go on 
 
A SWISS GUIDE. 
 
 279 
 
 with my half-salary and my situation here for more 
 than a year, and my duties be confined, as now, to 
 executing particular commands of the King : for in- 
 stance, I am to supply him with music for the “ Mid- 
 summer Night’s Dream,” the “ Tempest,” and “ (Edi- 
 pus Coloneus.” 
 
 Such, then, is the desired conclusion of this long, 
 long transaction. Forgive all these details ; but I wished 
 to inform you minutely of every particular. 
 
 A request occurs to me which I long ago intended to 
 have made to you. In Switzerland I saw my former 
 guide, Michael, whom on my previous mountain-ex- 
 peditions I always found to be an excellent, honest, 
 obhging fellow, and on this occasion I met with him 
 again, married to a charming pretty woman ; he has 
 children, and is no longer a guide, but established as 
 landlord of the Krone.” During our first visit to 
 Meiringen this summer, we lived at the Hbtel de Eei- 
 chenbach, but the second time we were at the ‘‘Krone,” 
 and quite delighted with the cleanliness and neatness, 
 and the civil behaviour of all the people in the house. 
 It is a most genuine Swiss village inn, taken in its best 
 sense. Now, Michael’s greatest wish is to be named 
 among the inns at Meiringen in the new edition of 
 Murray’s “ Switzerland,” and I promised to endeavour 
 to effect this for him.* Is it in your power to get this 
 done? The first inn there is the “Wilde Mann,” the 
 second the “ Eeichenbach,” and the third undoubtedly 
 the “ Krone ; ” and if Murray recommends it as such, I 
 am convinced it will do him credit. He might also 
 mention that it is most beautifully situated, with a fuD 
 
 8ee Letter to his Mother of the 3d of September, 1842. 
 
280 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 view of the Engelhorn, and the glacier of the Eosenlaui, 
 Michael said that the editor of tlie Handbook had been 
 there, and very much feU by the other landlords ; his 
 means did not admit of this, still he would give him a 
 good round sum of money if he would only mention 
 him. I was indignant, and said, “ Without money ^ or 
 not at ally But I thought of many musical newspapers 
 and composers, so I did not lecture him much on the 
 subject, from the fear that he might one day hear some- 
 thing of the same sort from one of my colleagues, and 
 take his revenge. There is now a general complaint, 
 that the large town hotels have superseded the smaller 
 comfortable genuine Swiss inns ; this is one of the 
 latter sort. Murray must really recommend it. Pray, 
 do what you can about this, and tell me if you succeed. 
 Forgive my troubling you, the secretary to an embassy, 
 with such things, but if you knew Michael you w'ould 
 like him, I know. I would fain draw a great deal now, 
 and gladly devote myself to all manner of allotria^ in- 
 cluding composition ; but I see lying before me an 
 enormous thick packet of proofs of my A minor sym- 
 phony, and the ‘^Antigone,” which must absorb all my 
 leisure time ; and then the frightful heap of letters ! 
 
 My dearest friend, may these lines find you in good 
 health, and in a happy frame pf mind ; may you think 
 of me, as I shall of you, so long as life lasts ; and may 
 you also soon be able to tell me yourself that it is st>, 
 and again rejoice your true friends by your piesence, 
 for Cecile writes this letter from first to last along with 
 me, and knows all I have said, and is, like- myself, for 
 ever and ever your friend. 
 
 F. M. B. 
 
NUMEROUS OCCUPATIONS 
 
 283 
 
 To HIS Mother. 
 
 Leipzig, November 28th, 1842. 
 
 Dearest Mother, 
 
 As pen and paper must again serve instead of our 
 usual evening hour for tea, I begin by making a sug- 
 gestion, which is, whether you would like me to write 
 to you regularly every Saturday (perhaps only a few 
 words, but of this hereafter), and that one of the family, 
 as often as you cannot or will not write, should under- 
 take to send me a punctual reply. In addition to the 
 joy of knowing beforehand the day when I am to hear 
 of you, it is in some degree indispensable to insure my 
 writing to you, for time must be found for a weekly 
 letter; while, were this not the case, I should be 
 ashamed to send you only a few lines, should it happen 
 that I could not accomplish more. You can have no 
 idea of the mass of affairs — musical, practical, and so- 
 cial — that have accumulated on the table in my study 
 since my return here. The weekly concerts ; the extra 
 ones ; the money the King has at length bestowed at 
 my request on the Leipzigers, and for the judicious ex- 
 penditure of which I only yesterday had to furnish the 
 prospectus ; the revisal of Antigone ” and of the A 
 minor symphony, its score and parts; and a pile of 
 letters. These are the principal points, which, however, 
 branch off into a number of secondary ones. Besides, 
 Raupach has already sent me the first chorus of 
 ‘^Athaha.” The ‘‘‘ Midsummer Night’s Dream ” and 
 “ CEdipus ” daily work more busily in my head ; I am 
 really anxious at last to make the “ Walpurgis Nacht” 
 into a symphony cantata, for which it was originally 
 24 * 
 
282 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 intended, but did not become so from want of courage 
 on my part ; and I must also complete my violoncello 
 sonata. 
 
 Old Schroder’s concert took place three days ago, 
 in which I played, and directed the overture to “ Euy 
 Bias ; ” the old declamatrice delighted us all exceed- 
 ingly by the great power and spirit of her voice, and 
 every gesture. In particular passages I thought she 
 laid rather too much stress on the expression of the 
 words, and gave too much preference to details over 
 the voice ; but as a whole her genius was highly remark- 
 able. In her youth, had she the reputation of laying 
 more stress on effect than was admissible ? and what 
 were her best parts in those days? Her daughter 
 (looking younger, and wilder, and more of a madcap 
 than ever) sang also, and sings this evening in Dohler’s 
 concert ; she will also probably sing in our subscription 
 concert next Thursday ; the days wliich she passes in 
 any town are not of the most quiet description for her 
 acquaintances. We had, besides, Tichatschek, Wagner, 
 Dohler, Muhlenfels : so there was a continual hurry 
 and excitement last week. 
 
 Make them read aloud to you at the tea-table the 
 passage from the last of Lessing’s “ Antiquarian Let- 
 ters,” — Wenn ich Kunstrichter ware,” etc. etc., — and 
 tell me whether any of you dispute the point, or 
 whether you all agree with me, that it is the most 
 exhaustive address which can be made to a critic, 
 indeed to every critic. At this moment, when so many 
 artists, old and young, good and bad, come here, this 
 passage daily recurs to me. — Your 
 
 Felix 
 
COMMUNICATION FROM THE KING. 
 
 283 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 • Leipzig, December 5th, 1842. 
 
 My dear Brother, 
 
 As we agreed (and indeed very properly) that I was 
 to take no step with regard to my affairs in Berlin 
 without informing you immediately of every detail, I 
 write you these lines to-day, although I am over head 
 and ears in business. I received yesterday from the 
 King the following communication : — 
 
 “ By the enclosed written document you will perceive 
 the tenor of the communication I have this day made 
 on the subject of an Institute for the Improvement of 
 Church Singing ; it is addressed to the Special Commis- 
 sioners, W. Gr. K. von Massow and W. Gr. B. Gleneral 
 Intendant of Court Music, Graf von Redern. I have 
 also, in compliance with your own wish, informed the 
 Minister of State, Eichhorn, and the Finance Minister, 
 Yon Bodelschwingh, that, until you enter on your 
 functions, you decline receiving more than fifteen hun- 
 dred thalers^ instead of three thousand. I nominate you 
 General Music Director, and intrust to you the superin- 
 tendence and direction of church and sacred music as 
 your appointed sphere of action. — Charlottenburg, No- 
 vember 22d, 1842.” 
 
 The enclosure consists of a Cabinet order, which is 
 drawn up in a most clear and judicious style, entirely 
 in the spirit of our interview, and thoroughly in accord- 
 ance with my wishes, manifestly with the co-operation 
 of Herr von Massow, and with the true and honest 
 purpose of carrying out the affair- That no materia] 
 obstacles exist, is again evident from this Cabinet order, 
 
284 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 but whether I may consider the accomplishment of the 
 project as certain, I cannot say with any security till I 
 actually see it. The affair of the Conservatorium was 
 still further advanced, and seemed even more decided. 
 On the other hand, I adhere to my former views, and 
 do what I can to promote the project and to display my 
 good will towards it. 
 
 Herr von Massow writes to me (only yesterday) that 1 
 had better soon come again to Berlin, to converse with 
 him and G-raf von Eedern, and that only one or two days 
 would be required ; I shall, however, answer him that 
 I mean to go there on the 17th, and have arranged to 
 remain till the 23d. A longer stay is unfortunately 
 impossible ; still you and I can have some political gos- 
 sip together, and be inseparable during my stay. 
 
 The king having on this occasion conferred on me a 
 new title,* almost embarrasses me ; I am unwilling to 
 be of the number of those in the present day who pos- 
 sess a greater number of decorations than they have 
 written good compositions, and yet it seems rather like 
 it ; at all events, I really have no idea what return I 
 can possibly make for all this ; still, as I have not in any 
 way sought it, I may be excused. To refuse such a 
 thing is out of the question, and there is no one who 
 does not rejoice in being over-estimated, because on 
 some other occasion the balance is sure to be made even 
 by depreciation. — Ever your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 ♦ See Letter to the King of the 28th of October, 1842. 
 
CONCERT FOR THE KING. 
 
 285 
 
 To HIS Mother. 
 
 Leipzig, December 11th, 1842. 
 
 Dearest Mother, 
 
 On the 21st or 22d, we give a concert here for the 
 King, who has sworn death and destruction to all the 
 hares in the country round. In this concert we mean 
 to sing for his benefit (how touching!) the partridge 
 and hare hunt out of the “ Seasons.” My “ Walpurgis 
 ISTacht” is to appear once more in the second part, in 
 a somewhat different garb indeed from the former one, 
 which was somewhat too richly endowed with trom- 
 bones, and rather poor in the vocal parts ; but to effect 
 this I have been obliged to re-write the whole score 
 from A to Z, and to add two new arias, not to men- 
 tion the rest of the clipping and cutting. If I don’t 
 hke it now, I solemnly vow to give it up for the rest 
 of my life. I think of bringing with me to Berlin a 
 movement from the “ Midsummer Night’s Dream,” and 
 one from “ CEdipus.” The music school here, please 
 God 1 will make a beginning next February ; Haupt- 
 mann, David, Schumann and his wife, Becker, Pohlenz, 
 and I, are to be the teachers at first. Ten scholars are 
 received gratis ; the rest who may wish to have in- 
 struction must pay seventy-five thalers a year. Now 
 you know all that I know ; the rest can only be taught 
 by experience and trial. 
 
 I wished for you recently at a subscription concert. 
 I think I never played the Beethoven G major concerto 
 so weU, — my old cheval de bataille ; the first cadence 
 especially, and a new return to the solo, pleased me 
 exceedingly, and apparently the audience still more. 
 
286 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 What you write to me about the repertoire of your 
 Berlin concerts does not inspire me with any wish to 
 hear more about them. The arrangement of the “ Auf- 
 for derung zum Tanz,” and the compositions of English 
 ambassadors, — these are valuable things ! If experi- 
 ments are to be thus made and listened to, it would be 
 advisable to be rather more liberal towards the works 
 of our Fatherland. You will again say that I am cyni- 
 cal ; but many of my ideas are so intimately connected 
 with my life and my views on art, that you must be 
 indulgent with regard to them. 
 
 The monument to old Sebastian Bach is now very 
 handsome.* Bendemann was here the day before yes- 
 terday, to inspect it once more. All the inner scaffold- 
 ing had been removed; so the pillars and smaller col- 
 umns, and scrolls, and above all the bas-reliefs, and the 
 grand, antiquated old features, sparkled clearly in the 
 sun, and caused me great delight. The whole structure, 
 with its numerous elegant decorations, is really typical 
 of the old fellow. It is now covered up again, and will 
 remain so till March, when it is to be inaugurated on 
 his birthday, by one of his motetts. Cedars are to be 
 planted round the monument, and a Gothic seat placed 
 in front of it. We are anxious, however, not to make 
 too much fuss on the subject, and to avoid the present 
 pompous style of phraseology, and the worship of art 
 and artists, which is so much the fashion. 
 
 Here, the outward aspect of things is now as much 
 too flourishing as it formerly was too miserable for art- 
 ists, which would be very pleasant for us, but it does 
 harm to the cause. Art is becoming spoiled and slug- 
 
 * See Letter of 10th August, 1840. 
 
Elijah; 
 
 287 
 
 gish, so we should rather be grateful to our present 
 enemies than be angry with them. I also consider it 
 too much good fortune that the King of Prussia has 
 nominated me Greneral Music Director. This is another 
 new title and new honour, whereas I really do not 
 know how to do enough to deserve the old ones. 
 
 This is a hallowed day for us all, with its delightful 
 and memorable recollections;* think of me too on this 
 anniversary, as I do of you and of him, so long as life 
 endures. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Pastor Julius Schubring, Dessau. 
 
 Leipzig, December 16th, 1842. 
 
 My dear Schubring, 
 
 I now send you, according to your permission, the 
 text of Elijah,” so far as it goes. I do beg of you to 
 give me your best assistance, and return it soon with 
 plenty of notes on the margin (I mean Scriptural pas- 
 sages, etc.). I also enclose your former letters on the 
 subject, as you wished, and have torn them out of the 
 book in which they were. They must, however, be 
 replaced, so do not forget to send them back to me. In 
 the very first of these letters (at the bottom of the first 
 page), you properly allude to the chief difficulty of the 
 text, and the very point in which it is still the most 
 deficient, — in universally valid and impressive thoughts 
 and words; for of course it is not my intention to com- 
 
 The birthday of Mendelssohn’s father. 
 
288 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 pose what you call a Biblical Walpurgis Night.” I 
 have endeavoured to obviate this deficiency by the pas- 
 sages written in Eoman letters ; but there is still some- 
 thing wanting, even to complete these, and to obtain 
 suitable comprehensive words for the subject. This, 
 then, is the first point to which I wish to direct your 
 attention, and where your assistance is very necessary. 
 Secondly, in the “ dramatic” arrangement. I cannot 
 endure the half operatic style of most of the oratorio 
 words (where recourse is had to common figures, as, 
 for example, an Israelite, a maiden, Hannah, Micaiah, 
 and others, and where, instead of saying this and 
 that occurred,” they are made to say, Alas I I see 
 this and that occurring”). I consider this very weak, 
 and will not follow such a precedent. However, the 
 everlasting ^^he spake,” etc., is also not right. Both 
 of these are avoided in the text ; still this is, and ever 
 will be, one of its weaker aspects. 
 
 Eeflect, also, whether it is justifiable that no posi- 
 tively dramatic figure except that of Elijah appears. 
 I think it is. He ought, however, at the close, at his 
 ascension to heaven, to have something to say (or to 
 sing). Can you find appropriate words for this pur- 
 pose ? The second part, moreover, especially towards 
 the end, is still in a very unfinished condition. I have 
 not as yet got a final chorus ; what do you advise it to 
 be ? , Pray, study the whole carefully, and write on 
 the margin a great many beautiful arias, reflections, 
 pithy sentences, choruses, and all sorts of things, and 
 let me have them as soon as possible. 
 
 I also send the Methode des Methodes.” While 
 turning’ over its leaves, I could not help thinking that 
 
DEATH OF HI8 MOTHER. 
 
 289 
 
 you will here and there find much that will be useful. 
 If (hat be the case, I beg you will keep it as long as 
 you and your young pianoforte player may require it. 
 I don’t use it at all. If it does not please you, I can 
 send you, instead a sight of Zimmermann’s “ Pianoforte 
 School,” which is composed pretty much on the same 
 principle, and has only different examples, etc. 
 
 Speaking is a very different thing from writing. 
 The few minutes I lately passed with you and yours 
 were more enlivening and cheering than ever so many 
 letters. — Ever your 
 
 Felix M. B. 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Leipzig, December 22d, 1842.* 
 
 My dear brother, 
 
 I wrote to you the day after our arrival here that 
 we were all well, and living in our sorrow as we best 
 could, dwelling on the happiness we once possessed. 
 My letter was addressed to Fanny, but written to you 
 all ; though it seems you nad not heard of it, and 
 even this trifle shows, what will day by day be more 
 deeply and painfully felt by us, that the point of union 
 is now gone, where even as children we could always 
 meet, and though we were no longer so in years, we 
 felt that we were still so in feeling. When I wrote to 
 my Mother, I knew that I wrote to you all, and you 
 knew it too ; we are children no longer, but we have 
 
 * After the death of his mother. 
 
 25 
 
290 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 enjoyed what it really is to be so. Now this is gone 
 for ever! At such a time, with regard to outward 
 things, we are as if in a dark room, groping to find the 
 way, hour after hour. Tell me if we cannot arrange 
 that I should write to one of you by turns once every 
 week, and get an answer from you, so that we may at 
 least hear of each other every three weeks, independent 
 of more frequent letters ; or say whether any better 
 arrangement occurs to you. I thank you a thousand 
 times for your kind question about the house. I 
 had thought of asking you for it, and now you offer it 
 to me. But before we finally settle this, I should like 
 you to bring the subject cautiously on the tapis ^ in the 
 presence of our sisters and brother-in-law. If you per- 
 ceive that any unpleasant feeling is awakened in their 
 minds by such a proposal, when for the first time, in 
 Berlin, I am not to live under the same roof with them, 
 and if they give any indication of such a feeling, even 
 by a single word or remark (you will quickly observe 
 this, and I rely entirely on you), then we must give it 
 up. In any other event, I shall thankfully accept your 
 kindness. My next visit to Berlin will be a severe 
 trial to me ; indeed, all I say and do is a trial to me, — 
 anything, in short, that is not mere patient endurance. 
 I have, however, begun to work again, and that is the 
 only thing which occupies me a little. Happily I have 
 some half- mechanical work to do, — transcribing, instru- 
 mentation, and similar things. This can be accom- 
 plished by a kind of almost animal instinct, which we 
 can follow, and which does us more good than if we 
 had it not. But yesterday I was obliged to direct. 
 That was terrible. They told me that the first time 
 
CONGRATULATIONS. 
 
 291 
 
 would be terrible, but sooner or later it must be done. 
 I thought so too, but I would fain have waited for a 
 few weeks. The first thing was a song of Rochlitz’s ; 
 but when in the rehearsal the alto sang, piano ^ ‘^Wie 
 der Hirsch schreit,'’* I was so overcome that I was 
 obliged afterwards to go out of the . room, to give free 
 vent to my tears. 
 
 To-day, Heaven be praised, I am not required to see 
 or speak to any one, and my cough is better. Thus 
 time glides on ; but what we have once possessed is 
 not less precious, and what we have now lost not less 
 painful, with time. Farewell, dearest Brother. Con- 
 tinue to love me. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Professor Kostlin, Tubingen. 
 
 Leipzig, January 12th, 1843. 
 
 Dear Herr Kdsthn, or rather, dear Herr Godfather, 
 
 You have caused me much joy by your kind letter 
 of yesterday, and by the happy intelligence it contained, 
 and, above all, by your wish that I should be godfather I 
 Indeed, you may weU believe that I gladly accede to 
 the request, and after reading your letter it was some 
 moments before I could reahze that I could not possibly 
 be present at the baptism. In earlier days, no reason- 
 ing would have been of any avail ; I would have taken 
 post-horses and arrived in your house for the occasion. 
 
 * From his own Psalm, op. 42. 
 
292 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 This I cannot now do ; but if there be such a thing as 
 to be present in spirit, then I shall indeed be so. The 
 remembrance of me by such well-beloved friends, and 
 this proof of your regard, which causes a still more 
 close and enduring tie between us, cannot fail to cause 
 true joy and exhilaration of heart ; and, believe me, I 
 feel this joy, and thank you and your wife for it. 
 
 That I am to be godfather is then settled ; but there 
 are a thousand things I still wish to know, and if, when 
 the christening is over, you do not write me all the 
 details which you omit in this letter, you must expect a 
 good scolding. You forget that I have myself three 
 children, so I am doubly interested in such things. 
 You do not even mention the name the boy is to have, 
 and whether he is fair or dark, or has black or blue 
 eyes. My wife is as desirous as I am to know aU this, 
 and we hope that after the christening you will write 
 to us every particular. You were rather displeased 
 with me for being so bad a correspondent. I earnestly 
 entreat of you never to be displeased with me on that 
 account ; I cannot remedy this ; it is a fault which, in 
 spite of the best resolutions on my part, I constantly 
 fall into, and which I shall never be cured of so long as 
 I live. There is so much that stands in my way ; first, 
 a really instinctive dislike to pen and paper, except 
 where music is concerned ; then the various scattered 
 branches of a perfect maze of professional and othei 
 avocations, which I am obliged to undertake partly for 
 myself and partly for others, so that I really sometimes 
 can only carry on hfe like a person in a crowd pushing 
 his way, and shoving along with both his elbows, using 
 his feet too, as well as his fists and teeth, etc. This is 
 
A DANISH COMPOSER. 
 
 293 
 
 in fact, iry mood many a week ; I extort tlie time for 
 writing music, otherwise I could not go on from day to 
 day ; but I cannot find leisure to write letters. 
 
 We have had recently a bitter heavy loss to bewail, 
 — that of my dear Mother. I intended to have written 
 in a gay mood all through this letter, and not by a sin- 
 gle word to allude to anything that by its melancholy 
 nature might disturb your happiness, but I feel that I 
 must write this to you, otherwise aU that I say would 
 appear mere hypocrisy. You must therefore take part 
 in my sorrow, for I could not conceal from you the 
 event that during the last few weeks has so bowed us 
 down from grief, and which it will be long before we 
 can recover from. Yet such a letter as yours is wel- 
 come at aU times, and in aU sorrow, and just as I know 
 how you will feel towards me on hearing this, so you 
 know how cordially I sympathize with your joy ; this 
 may well be called sincere attachment! G-ive your 
 wife a thousand greetings and congratulations from me. 
 Tell me if she has composed new songs or anything 
 else ; what I should like best would be to receive one 
 from her in a letter ; they always delight me so much, 
 when I hear and play them. — Ever your devoted 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To Fanny Hensel, Berlin. 
 
 Leipzig, January 13th, 1843. 
 
 ... We yesterday tried over a new symphony by a 
 Dane of the name of Grade, and we are to perform it iu 
 25 * 
 
294 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 the course of the ensuing month ; it has given me more 
 pleasure than any work I have seen for a long time. 
 He has great and superior talents, and I wish you could 
 hear this most original, most earnest, and sweet-sound- 
 ing Danish symphony. I am writing him a few lines 
 to-day, though I know nothing more of him than that 
 he lives in Copenhagen, and is twenty-six years of age, 
 but I must thank him for the delight he has caused me ; 
 for there can scarcely be a greater than to hear fine 
 music ; admiration increasing at every bar, and a feel- 
 ing of congeniahty • would that it came less seldom I 
 
 To H. W,- Gtade, Professor of Music, Copenhagen. 
 
 Leipzig, January 13th, 1843. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 We yesterday rehearsed for the first time your sym- 
 phony in C minor, and though personally a stranger, 
 yet I cannot resist the wish to address you, in order 
 to say what excessive pleasure you have caused me by 
 your admirable work, and how truly grateful I am for 
 the great enjoyment you have conferred on me. It is 
 long since any work has made a more lively and favour- 
 able impression on me, and as my surprise increased at 
 every bar, and yet every moment I felt more at home, 
 I to-day conceive it to be absolutely necessary to thank 
 you for all this pleasure, and to say how highly I esteem 
 your splendid talents, and how eager this symphony 
 (which is the only thing I know of yours) makes me 
 to become acquainted with your earlier and future com- 
 
oade’s symphony in c minor. 
 
 295 
 
 I ositions ; but as I bear tbat you are still so young, it 
 is the thoughts of those to come in which I particularly 
 rejoice, and your present fine work causes me to antici- 
 pate these with the brightest hopes. I once more 
 thank you for it and the enjoy menj^ I yesterday had. 
 
 We are to have some more rehearsals of the sym- 
 phony, and shall probably perform it in the course of 
 three or four weeks. The parts were so full of mis- 
 takes, that we were obliged to revise them all, and to* 
 have many of them transcribed afresh; next time it 
 will not be played like a neiT f ^ut as one familiar 
 and dear to the whole orchestra. Tuis was indeed the 
 case yesterday, and there was only one voice on the 
 subject among us mmidans^ but it must be played so 
 that evtry one may hear it properly. Herr Eaymond 
 Hartel told me there was an idea of your coming here 
 yourself in the course of the winter. I hope this may be 
 the case, as I could better and more plainly express 
 my high estimation and my gratitude to you verbally, 
 than by mere empty written words. But, whether we 
 become acquainted or not, I beg you will always look 
 on me as one who wiU never cease to regard your 
 works with love and sympathy, and who will ever feel 
 the greatest and most cordial delight in meeting with 
 such an artist as yourself, and such a work of art as 
 your C minor symphony. — Your devoted 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
296 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To Carl Klingemann, London. 
 
 Leipzig, January 15th, 1843. 
 
 I cannot as yet at all reconcile nciyself to distraction 
 of thought and every-day hfe, as it is called, or to life 
 with men who in fact care very little about you, and to 
 whom what we can never forget or recover from, is 
 only a mere piece of neius. I now feel, however, more 
 vividly than ever what a heavenly calling Art is ; and for 
 this also I have to ^y parents; just when all else 
 
 which ought to interest th<=^ mind appears so repugnant, 
 and empty, and insipid, the smallest real service to 
 Art lays hold of your inmost thoughts, leading you so 
 far away from town, and country, and from earth itself, 
 that it is indeed a blessing sent by God. A few days 
 previous to the 11th, I had undertaken to transcribe 
 my “ Walpurgis Nacht,” which I had long intended to 
 do, and caused the voice parts of the whole of the 
 voluminous score to be written out and copied afresh. 
 Then I was summoned to Berlin, and after an interval 
 of some weeks, I have now begun to write the instru 
 meni al parts in my little study, which has a pretty view 
 of fields, and meadows, and a village. I sometimes 
 could not leave the table for hours, I was so fascinated 
 by such pleasant intercourse with the old familiar oboes 
 and tenor violins, which live so much longer than we 
 do, and are such faithful friends. I was too sorrowful, 
 and the wound too recent, to attempt new composi- 
 tions ; but this mere mechanical pursuit and employ- 
 ment was my consolation the whole time that I was 
 alone, when I had not my wife and children with their 
 
ADMIRATION OF JEAN PAUL. 
 
 297 
 
 beloved faces, who make me forget even music, and 
 cause me daily to think how grateful I ought to be to 
 Grod for all the benefits he bestows on me. 
 
 You have not quite understood my previous letter. 
 You say could not act otherwise in my official posi- 
 tion.” It was not that^ it was my Mother I alluded to. 
 All the plans and projects have since then been digging 
 on slowly ; I have my half-salary, and begun the music 
 for the ‘‘ Midsummer ISTight’s Dream,” CBdipus,” and 
 others for the King. My private opinion is, still, that 
 he is resolved to allow things to rest as they are ; in 
 the mean time, I have established the Conservatorium 
 here, the official announcement of which you will read 
 in the newspapers, and it gives me a great deal to do. 
 
 To Madame Emma Preusser. 
 
 Leipzig, February 4th, 1843. 
 
 Dear Lady, 
 
 I send Siebenkas,” according to your desire. May 
 it cause you half the pleasure it caused me when I first 
 read it, and very frequently since. I believe that the 
 period when we first learn to love and to know such a 
 glorious work, is among the happiest hours of our lives. 
 As you have read very little of Jean Paul, were I in 
 your place, I would not concern myself much about the 
 prologues, but at first entirely discard the “Blumen- 
 stiicke,” and begin at once at page 26, and follow the 
 story of “ Siebenkas ” to its close. When you have 
 read this, and perhaps also the ‘^Flegel Jahre,” and 
 
298 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 some more of his wonderful works, then no doubt you 
 will like and prize all he has written, — even the more 
 laboured, the less happy, or the obsolete, — and then 
 you will no longer wish to miss the “Blumenstiicke,” 
 the prologues, and the Traum im Traum,” etc. etc. 
 
 As soon as you wish for anything new, you will 
 always find me at the service of you and yours. — Your 
 devoted 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, 
 
 To N. W. Gtade, Professor of Music, Copenhagen. 
 
 Leipzig, March 3d, 1843. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Your C minor symphony was performed for the first 
 time yesterday at our eighteenth subscription concert 
 here, to the lively and unalloyed dehght of the whole 
 public, who broke out into the loudest applause at the 
 close of each of the four movements. There was great 
 excitement among the audience after the scherzo, and 
 the shouting and clapping of hands seemed intermi- 
 nable ; after the adagio the very same ; after the last, 
 and after the first, — in short, after all! To see the 
 musicians so unanimous, the pubhc so enchanted, and 
 the performance so successful, was to me a source of 
 delight as great as if I had written the work myself, or 
 indeed I may say greater, — for in my own compositions 
 the faults and the less successful portions always seem 
 to me most prominent, whereas iti your work I felt 
 nothing but pure delight in all its admirable beauties. 
 
gade’s symphony in c minor. 
 
 299 
 
 By the performance of yesterday evening you have 
 gained the whole of the Leipzig public, who truly love 
 music, as permanent friends; none here will ever hence- 
 forth speak of you or of your works but with the most 
 heartfelt esteem, and receive with open arms all your 
 future compositions, which will be assiduously studied, 
 and joyfully hailed, by all friends of music in this town. 
 
 Whoever wrote the last half of this scherzo is an 
 admirable genius, and we have a right to expect the 
 most grand and glorious works from him.” Such was 
 the universal opinion yesterday evening in our orchestra 
 and in the whole hall; and we are not fickle here. 
 Thus you have acquired a large number of friends for 
 fife by your work; fulfil, then, our'wishes and hopes 
 by writing many, many works in the same style, and 
 of the same beauty, and thus imparting new life to our 
 beloved art ; and, to effect this. Heaven has bestowed 
 on you all that He can bestow. 
 
 Besides the rehearsal which I formerly wrote to you 
 about, we recently had two others, and, with the ex- 
 ception of some trifling unimportant mistakes, the 
 symphony was played with a degree of spirit and en- 
 thusiasm which at once showed how highly enchanted 
 the musicians were with it. I hear that it is to be 
 published by Kistner: so permit me to ask whether 
 the heading of the first introduction, | time, afterwards 
 repeated, may not give rise to misapprehension ? If I 
 am not mistaken, it is marked moderato sostenuto. In- 
 stead of this sostenuto^ ought it not rather to be printed 
 con motOj or con molto di moto f That heading would, 
 it seems to me, lead to the right tempo^ if it were ^ time 
 instead of f ; but in | time it is so very customary tc 
 
300 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 count the separate crotcliets slowly and deliberately, 
 that I think the movement would be taken too slow, 
 which I found to be the case at the first rehearsal, until 
 I no longer paid any attention to the notes or the 
 heading, but adhered to the sense alone. As many 
 musicians cling so closely to such headings, I was re- 
 solved at all events to mention to you my doubts on 
 this subject. 
 
 Allow me to thank you once more for your obliging 
 letter, and the friendly intention which you inform me 
 of in it;* but I thank you still more for the pleasure 
 which you have caused me by the work itself; and pray 
 believe that no one will follow your future course with 
 warmer sympathy, or anticipate your future works 
 with more anxiety and hope, than your 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To I. Moscheles, London. 
 
 Leipzig, April 30th, 1843. 
 
 . . . Our Music Academy here has made a famous 
 beginning; fresh notices of students arrive almost daily, 
 and the number of teachers, as well as of lessons, has 
 been necessarily very much increased. 
 
 Two serious maladies, however, are apparent, which 
 I mean vigorously to resist with might and main so 
 long as I am here : the Direction is disposed to increase 
 and generalize, — that is, to build houses, to hire locah- 
 ties of several stories; whereas I maintain that, for 
 
 ♦ Gade dedicated his C minor s7mphony to Mendelssohn. 
 
THE ZAUBERFLOTE. 
 
 301 
 
 the first ten years, the two rooms we have, in which 
 simultaneous instruction can be given, are sufficient. 
 Then all the scholars wish to compose and to theorize ; 
 while it is my belief that practical work, thorough 
 steady practising, and strict time, a solid knowledge of 
 all solid works, etc., etc , are the chief things which can 
 and must be taught. From these, all other knowledge 
 follows as a thing of course, and anything further is not 
 the affair of learning, but the gift of God. I need not, 
 however, I am sure, say that, notwithstanding this, I 
 am far fi:om wishing to render Art a mere handicraft. 
 
 To A. SiMROCK, Bonn. 
 
 Leipzig, June 12th, 1843, 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Herr Herrmann, some time since, inquired of you 
 once, in my name, about the printed score of the 
 Zauberfldte but I now apply to yourself to know 
 whether any copy of it still exists in the original Ger- 
 man, or if any ever did exist. And if neither be the 
 case, I should like to know whether you are disposed 
 to allow the original correct text to be substituted in 
 your plates of this opera, and some proofs to be taken. 
 It appears to me almost a positive duty that such a 
 work should descend to posterity in its unvitiated form ; 
 we indeed all know perfectly well, for instance, the aria 
 beginning wdth the words “ Dies Bildniss ist bezaubernd 
 schdn,” but if in the course of a few years the younger 
 musicians always see it printed thus, “ So reizend hold 
 26 
 
302 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 SO zaub’risch schon,” they will acquire a false idea ol 
 Mozart’s thoughts; and I go so far as to assert that 
 even the most undeniably bad passages in such a text 
 deserve to be retained, as Mozart composed music for 
 them, and they have thus become household words all 
 through Germany. If improvements are to be propos- 
 ed, it is all very well, but in that event they ought to 
 stand side by side with the original words ; in no case 
 must they be entirely banished, otherwise fidelity 
 towards the great deceased master is not properly 
 observed. I beg you will say a few words on. this 
 point when you write to Herr Herrmann ; and if you 
 resolve to alter your plates, then I shall be the first, but 
 certainly not the last, of your customers to thank you 
 for it. — Your obedient 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartiioldy. 
 
 To G. Otten, Hamburg. 
 
 Leipzig, July 7th, 1843. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 My best thanks for your obhging letter, which con- 
 tains much that is really far too kind and flattering 
 about myself and my music. Gladly, in compliance 
 with your friendly invitation, would I at some future 
 time come to express my thanks to you personally, and 
 to play to you as you wish me to do. Since we met 
 in Dessau I have learnt a good deal more, and have 
 made progress. But you must not compare my play- 
 ing with my music; I feel quite embarrassed by such 
 
RIGHT EMPLOYMENT OF TALENTS. 
 
 303 
 
 an idea, and I am certainly not the man to prevent 
 people worshipping the golden calf, as it is called in the 
 fashion of the day. Moreover, I believe that this mode 
 will soon pass away, even without opposition. True, 
 a new one wiU certainly start up ; on this account 
 therefore it seems to me best to pursue one’s own path 
 steadily, and especially to guard against an evil custom 
 of the day, which is not included in those you name, 
 but which, however, does infinite harm, — squandering 
 and frittering away talents for the sake of outward 
 show. This is a reproach which I might make to 
 most of our present artists, and to myself also more 
 than I could wish ; I have no great inclination there- 
 fore to extend my travels, but rather to restrict them 
 far more, in order to strive with greater earnestness for 
 my own improvement instead of the good opinion of 
 others. 
 
 I conclude by thanking you for your friendly letter, 
 and pray remember kindly your obedient 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Barthold y. 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Leipzig, July 21st, 1843. 
 
 Dear Brother, 
 
 I had almost hoped to be able to answer your letter 
 in person, for I was very nearly taking a journey to 
 Berlin again, Herr von Massow has sent me a commu- 
 nication connected with that tedious everlasting affair, 
 which irritated me so much that it almost made me ill, 
 
304 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 and I do not feel right yet. In my first feeling of anger, 
 I wished to go to Berlin to speak to you and break off 
 the whole affair ; but I prefer writing, and so I am now 
 writing to you. Instead of receiving the assent to the 
 proposals on which we had agreed in the interview of 
 the 10th,* Herr von Massow sends me a commission 
 to arrange for orchestra and chorus, without delay, 
 the chorale, “ Herr Grott, Dich loben wir,” the longest 
 chorale and the most tiresome work which I ever at- 
 tempted ; and the day after I had finished it and sent 
 it off, I receive an official document which I must sign 
 before the assent of the King can be solicited ; when I 
 had signed it, the others present at that conference 
 would also subscribe their names. In this deed all the 
 stipulations are correctly stated, but six or eight addi- 
 tional clauses are written on the margin not one syl- 
 lable of which had ever been named during the con- 
 ference, invalidating the whole intention of the above 
 stipulations, and placing myself and the Institute in the 
 most entire subservience to Herr von Kustner, — and, 
 in short, showing in the clearest light all the difficulties 
 to which I formerly alluded, and the existence of which 
 Herr von Massow denied. Among other things, it is 
 said, the appointment of the orchestra for all church 
 music is to be devolved on the theatrical music direc- 
 tion ; before every concert there must be an application 
 made to the G-eneral Intendancy, whether the day, 
 which according to our agreement was to be settled 
 once for all at the beginning of the winter, is to con- 
 
 * This conference was held in order to hasten the performance of the 
 plans of the King. See the letters of 28th October, 1842, and 5th De- 
 cember, 1842, 
 
THE BERLIN PROPOSAL, 
 
 305 
 
 tinue the same or be altered, etc. ; all things of which 
 not one syllable had been alluded to in the conference. 
 As I told you, I fretted myself till I was quite ill about 
 it. Remembering your words, I thought it the most 
 judicious plan to write direct to the King and break 
 off the affair. After two days’ consideration, I did not 
 think I was justified in doing so; I therefore wrote to 
 Herr von Massow, why and wherefore I could not give 
 my signature, requesting him to inform me whether 
 the King intended to carry out our former agreement. 
 If he did not feel disposed to do so, or if he, Herr von 
 Massow, considered it necessary to insert new clauses 
 in the agreement, I should then consider the affair 
 impracticable, and must act accordingly. In the other 
 view of the case, he knew that I was prepared to 
 come ; I was also to say how far I had got with “ (Edi- 
 pus.” I answered that, in accordance with Tieck’s 
 wish, I had arranged the Midsummer ISTight’s Dream” 
 with music, to be performed in the new palace ; that I 
 had also, by special commission from the King, written 
 choruses,* and that I had not resumed the choruses of 
 “ (Edipus” since the previous autumn, because another 
 Greek piece had been appointed to be performed. I 
 said all this in a friendly manner, but I do assure you 
 that the affair cost me four most angry, disturbed, and 
 irksome days. If I could only have spoken to you for 
 a single hour ! I should have been glad to know whe- 
 ther you approved of my course, — that is, of my letter, 
 — or whether you would have preferred a short letter 
 resigning the appointment. It is really too provoking 
 
 * Neither of these works, however, had yet been performed. 
 
 2r> 
 
306 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 that in all and everything the sarae spirit prevails ; in 
 this case, too, all might be smoothed over and set to 
 rights by a few words, and every moment I expect to 
 hear them spoken, and then there would be a possibi- 
 lity of something good and new; but they are not 
 spoken, and they are replaced by a thousand annoyanc- 
 es, and my head at last is so bewildered that I think I 
 become almost as perverted and unnatural as the whole 
 affair is at last likely to turn out. Forgive me for caus- 
 ing you to have your share of annoyance, but now I have 
 told you all, — and enough. I have not been able to 
 work during these days. To make up for this, I have 
 done the ‘‘Jungfrau” for you in Indian ink; the moun- 
 tain I think is excellent, but I have again utterly de- 
 stroyed the pines in the foreground. I mean now, too, 
 to resume your sonata. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Leipzig, July 26th. 1843. 
 
 Dearest Brother, 
 
 I have just received your kind Tetter, and indeed at 
 the very moment when I was about to write to you 
 and beg you to give me quarters. Next Tuesday, the 
 1st of August, I am obliged to return to Berlin to 
 rehearse and perform the “ Tausendjahrige Beich,” and 
 to hear from the King his views with regard to the com- 
 position of the Psalms. He yesterday summoned me 
 for this purpose, and of course I must go, and of course 
 I must live with you; but is it also of course that 
 
SUMMONS TO BERLIN. 
 
 307 
 
 my visit is convenient to you? This time I shall 
 remain at least eight days ; on the sixth is the celebra- 
 tion of the above-mentioned “ Eeich.” Give me a 
 line in answer. 
 
 I have a reply to my letter from Yon Massow, who 
 writes me the King’s invitation ; he says we are sure 
 to agree, and that some matters of form are the only 
 things in question; that I shall spare myself the 
 annoyance and vexation which such a tiresome corre- 
 spondence must entail, and that as I am coming at all 
 events for the “ Tausendjahrige Eeich,” I can also reply 
 personally to the zehntausendjdhrige affair. Herr von 
 Massow, in fact, says pretty plainly, Asking and bid- 
 ding make the bargain that he wished to see whe- 
 ther I would sign; and this not being the case, the 
 others would no doubt give way, etc., etc. All this is 
 very confusing, and I do not at all like it. To be sure, 
 it is true that his head must also be in a maze, and he 
 appears to take all imaginable trouble about the affair. 
 I mean to bring you the whole of the everlasting papers 
 for your inspection ; we can read them together when 
 we meet. I hope on this occasion not merely to have 
 a Court dinner with the King, but a satisfactory dis- 
 cussion on business, — probably the easiest mode of 
 bringing about a result. I wish, if possible, to defer 
 this till after the celebration of the iausendjdhrig festi- 
 val ; the chorale that I wrote for it is, I believe, just 
 what the King wishes ; at all events, it furnishes an 
 opportunity for a complete understanding. 
 
 My anger, which was indeed greater on this occa- 
 sion than for a long time past, I shook off in a defile on 
 the way to Naumburg, close to Eippach, where you 
 
308 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 drive down to Weissenfels ; and a couple of good talks 
 and walks with Miihlenfels fairly banished every trace 
 
 of it. Kosen was a pretty sight ; we met Mile. F 
 
 and Herr C under the hazel-bushes and lovely 
 
 lime-trees, and from every shrub, instead of glow- 
 worms glittered the order of the red eagle, of different 
 classes; but it was really beautiful. And now I am 
 writing music once more instead of painting fir-trees ; 
 therefore I cannot positively promise to finish the 
 Jungfrau” before eight days. I have washed out the 
 forest recently, for the second time. It is a year the 
 day after to-morrow since we set off to Switzerland. — 
 Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Leipzig, August iJCth, 1843. 
 
 Dear Brother, 
 
 I yesterday received a letter from Herr von Massow 
 containing the intelligence that the King had fully 
 sanctioned the affair of the Wirklich Geheimrath; I 
 wished to write this to you instantly.* To-day I got 
 a second letter, with the information that the King de- 
 sires to have three representations in the New Palace 
 in the second half of September, namely, 1, “Antigone 
 
 * The execution of this project, also, was not completed; and 
 Mendelssohn, after some time had elapsed, requested the King to 
 relieve him from all public duties, and to be permitted to remain only 
 in an artistic and personal relation to his Majesty, to which the King 
 was graciously pleased to acoede. 
 
LETTER TO HIS BROTHER. 
 
 309 
 
 2, “ The Midsummer Night’s Dream ; ” 3, “ Athalia ” 
 Medea ” is to be given between Nos. 1 and 2, and all 
 the four within fourteen days) ; and I am invited to 
 Berlin for the purpose. Now, I would rather not write, 
 for I have a frightful quantity of things to do before 
 then, as not one of the scores is yet fit for the tran- 
 scriber, and the overture to “Athalia ” still wanting, as 
 well as the instrumentation of the whole, etc., etc. I 
 have written nevertheless that I would come, and the 
 music should be finished. — Ever your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Leipzig, September 16th, 1843. 
 
 Dear Brother, 
 
 Six days ago, Herr von Kustner (after a silence of 
 ten days, in spite of all my letters and messages) wrote 
 to me, that the whole project of the representations in 
 the New Palace was postponed till October. So of 
 course I receive from him a letter to-day, saying that 
 “on Tuesday, the 19th, ^Antigone’ is to be given.” 
 Luckily I smelt a rat, and shall set off to Berlin by the 
 first train the day after to-morrow. 
 
 I defer all else till we meet. You gave me permission 
 to occupy the only hotel in Berlin that I like, so I mean 
 to go to you. Au revoir . — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
310 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 To THE Hoch Edelrath of Leipzig. 
 
 {The Corporation.) 
 
 Leipzig, October 3d, 1843. 
 
 To the Corporation of the City of Leipzig I am in- 
 debted for the privilege of considering myself as in 
 every sense belonging to that city. I therefore take 
 the liberty to address myself to the Corporation on a 
 subject which, though it does not personally concern 
 me, is closely connected with the interests of Art in 
 this place, and with the city itself. I hope on this ac- 
 count for their indulgence, and esteem it my plain, 
 bounden duty as a citizen, not to be idly silent on such 
 an occasion, but to express my dutiful wish, and re- 
 quest, in confidence to the Corporation. 
 
 The town orchestra here has communicated to me a 
 memorial, in which they beg that some alterations may 
 be made in the terms of their contract with the lessee 
 of the theatre. Their chief object is an increase of 
 their salaries, which have for many years remained the 
 same, and also an improvement in the deputy regula- 
 tions ; and for the attainment of this purpose the inter- 
 vention of the Corporation is requested. 
 
 The petition has been rejected in its most essential 
 points; for, instead of the increase of salary demanded, 
 the reply is that the lessee of the theatre means to ex- 
 pend three hundred thalers more yearly on the orchestra 
 (which three hundred thalers must be divided among 
 thirty-one persons), and that “if he is satisfied with 
 the performances of the orchestra, and if his receipts 
 admit of it, he may possibly be disposed to grant a do- 
 nation to the orchestra.” 
 
ADDRESS TO THE CORPORATION OF LEIPZIG. 311 
 
 I can only attribute such a proposal to some indistinct 
 statement in the memorial, or some obscure expressions. 
 For, in my opinion, it is not a question of alms, but of 
 just claims. 
 
 I am well aware that it may be no easy matter to 
 apply a scale of payment to an intellectual body like 
 that of the orchestra, and to tax it in thalers and gro- 
 schen ; but in days like the present, when so much is 
 said about intellectual qualifications, there is one thing 
 absolutely certain, that it is possible for justice and in- 
 justice^ fair h ess and unfairness^ to exist in the remune- 
 ration of intellectual services ; that this does not depend 
 upon the good will, more or less, or on the favour of 
 those who pay, but that a positive right exists, which 
 he has the privilege of claiming who devotes his life to 
 an intellectual vocation, and can therefore legitimately 
 demand that his life should be sustained, if he carries 
 out his calling well and blamelessly. This the orchestra 
 here do in the most admirable manner ; and under such 
 a conviction I do, in my inmost heart, consider that 
 the salaries fixed in the contract between the lessee of 
 the theatre and the orchestra are unjust. Perhaps they 
 were so even at the time they were settled, but are 
 now, owing to the change in the times, infinitely more 
 so ; the evidence of which is so clearly set forth in the 
 first memorial of the orchestra, that I believe only a 
 glance at it is necessary to prove the justice of my 
 assertion. 
 
 If the Corporation be also of this opinion, and con- 
 vinced of the unfairness of these points, the question 
 would then be, in how far it is possible for the lessee of 
 the theatre to comply with the wishes of the orchestra * 
 
3i2 
 
 MENDELSSOHN^S LETTERS. 
 
 if by bis consent to increase the salaries he would not 
 become bankrupt himself j and whether, in endeavour- 
 ing to obtain justice for the orchestra, injustice might 
 not be done to the lessee ? 
 
 Three things may form a criterion on this point, — the 
 average receipts of the lessee hitherto, the comparison 
 between other theatrical salaries and those of this or- 
 chestra, and, lastly, the pay of other G-erman orchestras 
 in cities of the same standing as Leipzig. 
 
 With regard to the receipts of the lessee, it will be 
 difficult to obtain exact information. In spite of all the 
 official documents and rendering of accounts, I venture 
 to assert that there is not a person in Leipzig who is 
 thoroughly acquainted with the fact, except the former 
 lessees themselves, who will at once dechne answering 
 any such questions. In so far as I have seen of similar 
 official documents, here and in other cities, it seems an 
 undeniable truth that, in an undertaking of the kind, a 
 yearly additional payment of two thousand thalers 
 would not cause the speculation to become a losing 
 instead of a good one. This is evident by a glance at 
 the variable and sometimes enormous salaries of the 
 singers, male and female, for whose engagement no 
 theatre entrejpreneur would grudge an outlay hke the 
 above, in order to cast greater lustre on his stage. 
 
 These salaries also furnish a complete answer to the 
 second point ; being almost everywhere so greatly in- 
 creased during the years when the orchestra here have 
 only received the old scale of payment, that a theatrical 
 lessee of the former date would perhaps also have 
 declared that such an amount of money was utterly 
 irreconcilable with any profits to himself Singers 
 
ADDRESS TO THE CORPORATION OF LEIPZIG. 313 
 
 after a certain number of years, deteriorate ; their 
 places must be supplied, new contracts made, and thus 
 they can obtain for themselves that justice which the 
 members of the orchestra in vain demand. Singers 
 are paid in Leipzig at the same rate as in other places ; 
 but not so the orchestra. If it be said, singers are only 
 selected and paid according to the requirements and 
 fashion of the day, whereas, with regard to the orches- 
 tra, it is so in a minor degree, for whether it be better 
 or worse constituted or paid, the public know nothing, 
 —then this is an additional reason for my writing this 
 letter; for I consider it my duty, and that of every 
 friend of music, to protest against such a theory. Just 
 because the orchestra is not an article of luxury, but 
 the most necessary and important basis for a theatre, — 
 just because the public invariably regard with more 
 interest articles of luxury than more essential things, — 
 on this very account, it is a positive duty to endeavour 
 to effect that what is legitimate and necessary should 
 not be disparaged and superseded by a love of glitter. 
 Indeed, this was why the Corporation took under their 
 protection this orchestra, in the new theatre contracts. 
 If, however, they sanction the lessee of the theatre 
 making a contract with the orchestra, and permit the 
 old and obsolete salaries to remain as they are, then 
 such protection would be no benefit, but rather an 
 injury to the orchestra. Things would thus necessarily 
 remain, year after year, in a position which has no 
 parallel in any German city of the same rank as Leip- 
 zig. 
 
 This leads me to the third point. It has been said 
 that a comparison of the salaries here with those in 
 27 
 
314 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 other towns is inadmissible. But how is it possible to 
 arrive in a better manner at a scale of justice or injus- 
 tice, in similar payment ? As in other towns orchestras 
 are better paid, as, in spite of this, lessees do not 
 become bankrupt (and I believe no instance was ever 
 known of a theatrical manager being ruined by the high 
 salaries of an orchestra), as the same pretensions with 
 regard to services are made by the musicians here as 
 elsewhere, — is it not clear from all this that the same 
 mode of acting is possible here as elsewhere ? The pay 
 which the orchestra in Frankfort-on-the-Main receives 
 from the theatre alone is not only higher than it would 
 be here were the increase in question granted, but it is 
 almost without exception higher than it is here for the 
 theatre^ concert^ and church music combined ^ even if the 
 demand in question were complied with. Should not 
 this prove that the prayer of the orchestra here is not 
 unreasonable, — that the theatre lessee may accede to it 
 without any risk ? Indeed, may not a refusal on his 
 part lead to the inference that this city considers its 
 own musicians inferior to those of other towns of a 
 similar class? And yet such cannot be the case, for 
 the performances of our orchestra are not only equal to 
 that of Frankfort, but to those of every other G-erraan 
 city ; indeed, undeniably superior to most of those with 
 which I am acquainted I The favourable and wide- 
 spread musical reputation which Leipzig enjoys through 
 the whole of G-ermany, it owes entirely and solely to 
 this orchestra, the members of which must get on as 
 they best can, in the most sparing and scanty manner. 
 Such a good reputation is certainly not without mate- 
 rial advantage for the town of Leipzig, even indepen- 
 
ADDRESS TO THE CORPORATION OF LEIPZIG. 315 
 
 dent of the intellectual benefit to art. Shall, then, 
 those individuals to whom such happy results are 
 owing, remain in a state of privation, now as formerly, 
 irrespective of these services, and the change in the 
 times, while the whole community thrives by their 
 merits, and the city itself derives honour and profit 
 from them ? 
 
 I shall only add a few words with regard to the 
 deputy rule, or rather misrule^ as it ought more properly 
 to be called ; for it is really difficult to form an idea of 
 the confusion in this department, without knowing it 
 from personal experience, which I had an opportunity 
 of doing. This also has been minutely stated in former 
 memorials, and I now add an example from my own 
 knowledge. In the concert of the day before yesterday, 
 the clarionet players were obliged to pay a silver thaler 
 each to their theatre deputy, so that each of them, for 
 his services at the rehearsal, and performance in the 
 first subscription concert, paid eight groschen. It may 
 be suggested to raise the prices of the concert-tickets ; 
 but this would not check the mischief. A strict rule 
 as to deputies can alone effect this. On the contrary. 
 It is very desirable that the scale adopted for payment 
 of the concerts should equally be applied to the pay- 
 ment of extra performances in the theatre, which 
 demand the same amount of time and energy. 
 
 This brings me to the last point on which I wish to 
 touch. If there be the greatest difficulties in the way 
 of repairing these evils, what difficulty can there be in 
 greatly raising the former fixed salaries for extra per- 
 formances ? It is notorious that they are in no degree 
 in proportion to the increased receipts of the lessee: 
 
316 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 they afe not in proportion to the remuneration foi 
 other extra services, such as concerts, church music, 
 etc. ; they are not even in proportion to the set price 
 fixed for the town musicians for balls, weddings, and 
 so forth. I am perfectly convinced that such an aug- 
 mentation could be effected without difficulty, and 
 without any injury to the theatre lessee, and a portion 
 of the just complaints of the orchestra would thus be 
 obviated. May they all meet with that consideration 
 to which their equity and justice entitle them ! 
 
 In conclusion, I beg forgiveness from the Corporation 
 for the great liberty which I have taken in writing this 
 letter ; it regards a matter which does not personally 
 concern me, and from which neither evil nor good can 
 accrue to me, and which only affects me in so far as it 
 relates to the interests of artists whom I so highly prize 
 and esteem ; it is of importance to art also in this city ; 
 and I certainly can never see with calmness or indiffer- 
 ence the increasing or decreasing reputation of such 
 an artistic institution as Leipzig possesses in this 
 admirable orchestra. May my words accordingly prove 
 the heartfelt love and esteem with which, so long as I 
 live, I must ever regard all that affects the honour of 
 Leipzig in her artistic and musical sphere. — I am 
 always the devoted servant of the Corporation, 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
PETITION TO THE KINO OF PRUSSIA. 
 
 317 
 
 To THE King of Prussia. 
 
 Berlin, 1844. 
 
 Your Majesty, 
 
 I venture in these lines to bring before you a peti- 
 tion v^hich I have much at heart. 
 
 Among the vast number of compositions sent to me 
 from musicians here and in other places, I lately re- 
 ceived some works of a young man of the name of 
 
 Gr , in which I perceived such unmistakable talent 
 
 and such genuine musical feeling that they seemed to 
 me like an oasis in the desert. They consisted of a set 
 of songs, and a grand piece of music for Grood Friday, 
 which (each in its own peculiar style) displayed genu- 
 ine conceptions, and a true artistic nature. Indeed, 
 the sacred music inspires me with a strong hope that 
 the composer may accomplish something really import- 
 ant in this sphere. Nothing is wanting for the full 
 development of his talents save that he should reside 
 for some time in a large city, in order to hear music 
 and to become acquainted with musicians; for since 
 his youth he has for the last eight years been a teacher 
 in the country, and during all that long period has 
 lived entirely apart from music, with no one but him- 
 self to rely on. 
 
 His most anxious wish is, therefore, to come to Ber- 
 lin, there to pursue his musical studies and composi- 
 tions, and to cultivate his talents for future practical 
 efficacy. But for the fulfilment of this wish all pecu- 
 niary resoufces are wanting, and gladly as I would lend 
 him a helping hand to attain his aim in a musical point 
 of view, as far as my ability goes, and willing as he is 
 27 * 
 
318 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 by his own labours in giving lessons to endeavour to 
 gain his own livelihood, still this latter resource is 
 always very precarious, and especially just at first, 
 accompanied by so many difiiculties, that I could 
 scarcely advise him to give up the situation of tutor, by 
 which he now gains his living. 
 
 If your Majesty were graciously pleased to furnish 
 the young man with the means of residing here, where 
 he could hear and practise music till he could become 
 familiar with the musical world, from which he has 
 been so long estranged, then all obstacles would be re- 
 moved, and your Majesty have made one happy man 
 the more. 
 
 I believe if he were allowed for two years two hun- 
 dred thalers each year, this would sufi&ce, with his 
 modest ideas and simple mode of living, to enable him 
 to accomplish the visit to Berlin he so eagerly desires, 
 and, along with what he could and would make by his 
 own industry, secure his existence in the mean time. 
 
 His Excellency Herr von Massow, to whom I had an 
 opportunity of detailing personally the circumstances 
 of the young man, encouraged me to approach your 
 Majesty with this petition. May, in any event, my 
 presumption be forgiven. The fulfilment of my request 
 will be a fresh reason, among many others, to feel the 
 most heartfelt gratitude and thankfulness towards your 
 Majesty, and I need not say that such a fulfilment 
 would make the young man happy for life.* 
 
 ♦ Mendelssohn’s request was graciously granted by the King. 
 
LETTER FROM BUNSEN. 
 
 319 
 
 From WirMich Gelieimrath Ritter Bunsen^ to Felix lfe»- 
 delssohn Bartlioldy^ Franhfort-on-the-Mam.'^ 
 
 Berlin, Sunday morning, April 28th, 1844. 
 
 My dear and esteemed Friend, 
 
 I hope that these lines may find you free fi:*om all 
 cares and anxieties. I send them to you in a. kindly 
 spirit for the sake of the cause and yourself. 
 
 You have hurt the feelings of the King by your re- 
 fusal to compose music for the “ Eumenides.’’ I was 
 with him when G-raf Eedern gave him back the book 
 with this decision. As I saw tliis touched the King 
 very nearly, though he was not in the least excited^ I 
 remarked that perhaps you conceived that the whole 
 trilogy was to be set to music. His Majesty answered, 
 That would be all the better, but it could not prevent 
 Mendelssohn composing for the ^Eumenides,’ which, 
 in itself, may be regarded as a splendid whole.” I really 
 did not know what to say, and I confess to you that 
 your answer has deeply grieved myself. The affair, 
 too, is much talked of here^ and minutely discussed. In 
 this good town it is thought very wrong ” in you to 
 go to England instead of composing for the King. The 
 King himself is quite determined not to let the affair 
 drop. It has been suggested to him to intrust the work 
 to another artist, who, it seems, has promised to un- 
 dertake the affair at once. You neither must nor can 
 permit this ; you neither can nor will annoy the King. 
 I also heard Tieck speaking of the affair the day before 
 
 * The letter of Herr von Bunsen to Mendelssohn is Inserted here, i» 
 order to render the following reply intelligible. 
 
320 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 yesterday, who began to talk of it when I was with 
 him. The King sent him also a message on the subject. 
 You can understand that his Majesty, taking into con- 
 sideration the short span of life remaining to the great 
 Chorodidascalos^ and knowing that he alone can put it 
 on the stage here, is somewhat impatient. Tieck shares 
 the universal opinion about you here, although with 
 the most entire recognition of your character and of 
 your genius. I may also further say to you, quite in 
 confidence, that your declining to compose some songs 
 for “ Wie es euch gefallt ” has left a painful impression 
 on Tieck. and elsewhere; he is of opinion that your 
 reason for this, “ to allow some time to elapse between 
 this and the Midsummer Night’s Dream.” is a very in- 
 sufficient one ; for the more and the oftener the public 
 are offered good food, the sooner will they turn away 
 from the wretched stuff on which they are now 
 nourished. 
 
 But this is immaterial compared with the chief point. 
 
 Eejoice me soon by the intelligence that the whole 
 thing is a misunderstanding, and that you are willing 
 to compose music for the “Eumenides.” Tieck him- 
 self says that the choruses might be here and there 
 shortened ; a trilogy, too, might be accomplished with 
 great curtailments. But the “Eumenides,” as a whole, 
 with any curtailments which may appear advisable to 
 you, must first be separately performed. What a glo- 
 rious subject! What an unparalleled effect! Your 
 •^Antigone” choruses are making the tour of Europe; 
 those of ^schylus would do the same. You will aid 
 in establishing a new phase in art. Reflect that the 
 King loves you; that your refusal affected him very 
 
REPLY TO BUNSEN. 
 
 321 
 
 painfully ; that after having endured so much mis- 
 apprehension, so many bitter disappointments, so many 
 obstacles in the noblest paths of his reign, he is not 
 prepared to meet with difficulties in this quarter also. 
 
 Et tu Brute fili.” Pour out your heart to me as I 
 have done to you. You know that you may depend 
 upon me. We must all assist in supporting this noble 
 Prince in his good and grand ideas. The world re- 
 quires new elements of life ; happy he who can help to 
 create them ! — Unchangeably your faithful friend, 
 
 Bunsen. 
 
 To THE WiRKLICH GtEHEIMRATH B UNSEN. 
 
 Frankfort-a.-M., May 4th, 1844. 
 
 Your Excellency’s kind letter I received here when 
 on the point of setting off for England. First of all, I 
 hasten to thank you in the most heartfelt manner for 
 this fresh proof of your friendly feelings towards my- 
 self. I wish I may one day be able to express more 
 clearly my gratitude for all your kindness and friend- 
 ship ! I know how to appreciate these to the fullest 
 extent, and am proud of them, as the best and dearest 
 which can ever be my portion in this world. 
 
 To all those who have discussed with me the per- 
 formances of -^Eschylus’s “Eumenides,” to the King, to 
 Graf Redern, and more particularly to Geheimrath 
 Tieck, I have declared that I consider this representa- 
 tion, and, above all, the composition of the choruses, 
 a most difficult and perhaps impracticable problem, but 
 
322 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 that T would nevertheless mahe the attempt to solve it. I 
 asked Herr Geheimratli Tieck what time was allowed 
 me to make my decision ; whether my attempt would 
 be considered by the King worthy of being performed, 
 or if it were likely to be permitted to rest in my desk. 
 He answered me that the representation could only 
 take place in the large Opera-House ; that pieces of this 
 kind could not be produced in small localities ; this was 
 a very different affair from the “Antigone,” etc., and as 
 the opening of the Opera-House was fixed for the 15th 
 of December, it would be time enough if I occupied 
 myself with the music during my stay in England, or 
 after my return thence. Moreover, it was signified to 
 me that in the event of my not undertaking the com- 
 mission, some other composer would be selected. In 
 accordance with truth I was obliged to answer that it 
 would certainly be more agreeable to me if another 
 person were chosen for this purpose, as in my eyes the 
 difficulties were immense ; but I always and every- 
 where declared my entire readiness to attempt the com- 
 position, adding that my decision on the point should 
 at all events be made early enough to give ample time 
 to any other composer who could more easily solve the 
 difficulties, so that no obstacles should be thrown in the 
 way on my side. 
 
 What your Excellency therefore has written to me . 
 about this affair, comes upon me the more unexpectedly 
 and vexatiously since Herr Geheimrath Tieck, in the 
 conversations we held together on the subject, tho- 
 roughly agreed in my views of the difficulties attending 
 its execution, — acknowledging them in his turn to be 
 almost insuperable ; and yet, to his express question, 
 
REPLY TO BUNSEN. 
 
 323 
 
 whether I would not undertake the composition of the 
 choruses, he received from me, agreeably to the above- 
 mentioned explanations, the following answer, — that I 
 was, on the contrary^ ready to make the attempt^ and I 
 should certainly not he any hindrance in the matter. 
 Indeed, with a view to facilitate the idea, I suggested 
 to him that some of the choruses, which appeared to me 
 unsuitable, should be curtailed, a proposal which, as you 
 write to me, he fully concurs in. 
 
 I have always spoken only of an attempt, and must 
 now do the same. My not being able at once to accept 
 and consent to the request as I would to any other, is 
 partly owing to the novel nature and extraordinary 
 difficulty of the piece itself (I can appeal to the judg- 
 ment of any musician as to the fact), and partly to the 
 high estimation in which I hold the refined artistic 
 feeling of the King, — to whom it is impossible to offer 
 indiscriminately failures and successes, — and, lastly, 
 owing to a certain duty that I owe to myself, which 
 makes me unwilling to undertake music in the success 
 of which I, at least to a considerable degree, place no 
 faith. I thought I might hope that this should not 
 cause my good-will to be doubted, which I have already 
 proved in the course of this year by the accomplish- 
 ment of various very difficult tasks, which were de- 
 manded in the shortest time. 
 
 The key of the riddle seems to me to be, that my 
 views as to the difficult nature of the representation 
 are shared by many who may probably have wished to 
 convince the King also of the fact; for this purpose 
 they have selected me as the origin of these difficulties, 
 which I am not, and never will be ; they lie, unluckily, 
 
324 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 far more in the piece itself. And now permit me a few 
 words on this point also. 
 
 Because I owe so much gratitude to the King, — be- 
 cause I honour him in the depths of my soul as an 
 admirable, noble prince and man, — on this very account 
 I think that all I do by his command should be done 
 with a good conscience and in a cheerful spirit. If I 
 were to accept his ideas without thatj were I to produce 
 them before people without being myself really and 
 truly inspired by them, were I to use his commands as 
 a cloak for my failure, and, further, to represent my 
 failure as the result of his ideas, — then I should utterly 
 ruin these ideas, and then I should utterly ruin the 
 good opinion which I trust he still has of me ; then he 
 would have a right to apply to me the words, “ Et tu 
 Brute.” Eor thus it appears to me most of those seem 
 to act who entail on him, as you say, so many obstacles 
 and deceptions, and I never will join such “ assassins.” 
 
 I will always obey the commands of a sovereign so 
 beloved by me, even at the sacrifice of my personal 
 wishes and advantage. If I find I cannot do so with a 
 good artistic conscience ^ I must endeavour candidly to 
 state my scruples or my incapacity, and if that does not 
 suffice, then I must go. This may sound absurd in the 
 mouth of a musician, but shall I not feel duty as much 
 in my position as others do in theirs ? In an occurrence 
 so personally important to me, shall I not follow the 
 dictates of integrity and truth, as I have striven to do 
 all my life ? 
 
 After this fresh experience, I fear even what I ver- 
 bally mentioned to your Excellency already, — that my 
 stay on such slippery ground, and under such perplexing 
 
PRODUCTION OF ANTIOONE IN PARIS. 
 
 325 
 
 circumstances, is impossible. But bj this mode of act- 
 ing, and this alone^ can I hope, independently of mo- 
 mentary impressions, to preserve the good opinion of 
 his Majesty, which is more important to me than all the 
 rest ; indeed, it is only thus that I can hope really to 
 serve the King and his ideas. I cannot be an indiffer- 
 ent, doubtful, or secretly discontented servant to such 
 a monarch ; he could not employ me thus^ and thus I 
 would not only be useless to him, but sacrifice myself. 
 
 To Julius Stern, Paris, 
 
 {Now Professor in Berlin.) 
 
 London, May 27th, 1844. 
 
 Dear Herr Stern, 
 
 You well know the very great pleasure your kind 
 letter was sure to cause me ; at the same time I was 
 perfectly aware that in the first moments after the 
 representation* you would view in far too favourable a 
 light, and far too highly prize, my music and its success. 
 But that you should do so, and feel yourself thus 
 rewarded for the many and great efforts which this 
 representation has cost you, is indeed to me a source 
 of the highest gratification. Accept my most cordial 
 thanks. May I, by better works, deserve your too 
 partial opinion ! May all my works find friends as 
 loving to adopt them, and to bring them to a satisfac- 
 tory execution ! May this also be the case at all times 
 
 * Herr Stern had accomplished the production of “ Antigone,” in the 
 Odeon Theatre, in Paris. 
 
 28 
 
326 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 with your own works * I cannot desire anything better 
 for you. 
 
 I am also exceedingly indebted to you for having 
 been so kind as to thank the performers in my name. 
 According to your suggestion, I am writing some lines 
 to Herr Morel, who directed the music, requesting him 
 to be assured of my gratitude, and to express this also 
 to Herr Boccage ; but do not be displeased with me if 
 I decline taking the other hint, — as to making a present 
 to the leading performers. This would be contrary to 
 the fixed principles which I adopted at the beginning 
 of my musical career, — never in any way to mix up my 
 personal position with my musical one, or ever to 
 improve the latter by the influence of the former, or in 
 any manner to bribe public or private opinion with 
 regard to me, or even attempt to strengthen it. Pre- 
 cisely owing to the heartfelt gratitude I entertain to- 
 wards all those who interest themselves in my music, 
 it would be impossible for me to follow the fashion of 
 giving similar presents, without for ever embittering for 
 the future the gratitude and the joy emanating from it. 
 And although this fashion may have been introduced 
 by great authorities, I must always remain true to my- 
 self, and to what I deem to be right and feel to be 
 right : so you must excuse me for not complying with 
 this practice.* I trust that you will not be angry with 
 me, and rather defend me against those who may attack 
 me on this account. You will acknowledge that every 
 man must fix certain rules by which he is to live and 
 act, and will not, therefore, misconstrue my adhering 
 to mine. My hearty greeting to all my friends, and 
 
 * See also the Letter to Dehn, of the 28th of October, 1841. 
 
ENJOYMENT OF COUNTRY LIFE. 
 
 327 
 
 may we have a happy meeting in our Fatherland, — 
 Your devoted 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To Carl Klingemann, London. 
 
 Soden, near Frankfort-a.-M , July 17th, 1844. 
 
 My dearest Friend, 
 
 I found all my family well, and we had a joyful 
 meeting when I arrived here on Saturday, in health 
 and happiness, after a very rapid journey. Cecile looks 
 so well again, — tanned by the sun, but without the 
 least trace of her former indisposition ; my first glance 
 told this when I came into the room, but to this day I 
 cannot cease rejoicing afresh every time that I look at 
 her. The children are as brown as Moors, and play all 
 day long in the garden. I employed yesterday and the 
 day before entirely in recovering from my great fatigue, 
 in sleeping and eating ; I did not a little in that way, 
 and so I am myself again now, and I take one of the 
 sheets of paper that Cecile painted for me to write to 
 you. Once more I thank you from my very heart for 
 the past happy time, — all that is good and imperishable 
 in it comes from you ; so I feel most grateful to you, 
 and pray continue to love me, as I shall you so long as 
 I five. 
 
 I am sitting here at the open window, looking into 
 the garden at the children, who are playing with their 
 “dear Johann.”* The omnibus to Konigstein passes 
 
 * Mendelssohn’s servant. 
 
328 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 this twice every day. We have early strawberries for 
 breakfast, at two we dine, have supper at half-past 
 eight in the evening, and by ten we are all asleep. 
 Hoffmann von Fallersleben is here, and paid me a visit 
 yesterday. All those who are entitled to do so, wear a 
 bit of ribbon in their button-holes, and are called 
 “ Geheimrath all the world talking of Prussia and 
 blaming her, — in fact, they speak of nothing else. The 
 country is covered with pear-trees and apple-trees, so 
 heavy with fruit that they are all propped up ; then the 
 blue hills, and the windings of the Maine and the 
 Rhine; the confectioner, from whom you can buy 
 thread and shirt-buttons ; the well-spring Ho. 18, which 
 is also called the Champagne Spring ; the Herr Medici- 
 nalrath Thilenius ; the list of visitors, which comes out 
 every Saturday, as “ Punch ” does with you ; the walk- 
 ing-post, who, before going to Frankfort, calls as he 
 passes to ask what we want, and next day brings me 
 my linen back ; the women who sell cherries, with 
 whom my little four-year-old Paul makes a bargain, or 
 sends them away, just as he pleases; above all, the 
 pure Rhenish air, — this is familiar to all, and I call it 
 Germany I 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Soden, July 19th, 1844, 
 
 My dear Brother, 
 
 I am once more on German ground and soil ; well, 
 fresh, and happy at home, having found all my family 
 in the best health possible ; and we now pass our days 
 pleasantly here, in this most lovely country. 
 
TWO months’ visit to ENGLAND. 329 
 
 My visit to England wslb glorious; I never was 
 anywhere received with such universal kindness as on 
 this occasion, and I had more music in these two 
 months than elsewhere in two years. My A minor 
 symphony twice, the Midsummer Night’s Dream ” 
 three times, “ St. Paul ” twice, the trio twice ; the last 
 evening of my stay in London the “ Walpurgis Nacht,” 
 with quite wonderful applause ; besides these, the 
 variations for two performers on the piano, the quar- 
 tett twice, the D major and E minor quartett twice, 
 various songs without words, Bach’s D minor concerto 
 twice, and Beethoven’s G- major concerto. These are 
 some of the pieces which I played in public. Then, in 
 addition, the direction of all the Philharmonic and other 
 concerts, the innumerable parties, the publication of 
 Israel in Egypt,” which I worked at for the Handel 
 Society, and revised from the manuscript ; and in the 
 midst of aU this the composition of the overture to 
 Athalia,” which, being excessively troublesome, was 
 no slight task.* 
 
 You can gather from this how gay and stirring my 
 life was. My chief aim — to do a service to the Philhar- 
 monic Society — succeeded beyond all expectation; it 
 is the universal opinion that they have not had such a 
 season for years past. This, to be sure, does not cure the 
 radical evil which I this time amply experienced, and 
 which must prevent the Society continuing to prosper, 
 
 * Mendelssohn was desired by the Berlin Theatre Intendancy tc 
 compose this overture as quickly as possible (which he consequently did 
 in a few days), because Athalia” was to be performed immediately. 
 The performance, however, did not take place till the 1st of December 
 1845. 
 
330 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 — the canker in its constitution, — musical rotten bo^ 
 roughs^ etc. But more of this and many other points 
 when wfe meet. One thing I must also mention, which 
 I regretted chiefly on your account. I was invited to 
 go to Dublin, to be made a Doctor by the University 
 there, and Morgan John O’Connell wished to give me a 
 letter to his uncle in prison ; but I could not accept it, 
 on account of the short time, and the intense excite- 
 ment of such a journey, in five days. The thought of 
 the great pleasure you would have felt in my doing so 
 was constantly present with me, and I gave up the 
 idea with sincere regret. What a strange contrast this 
 quiet little spot forms to all the previous immense ex- 
 citement ! Here a walk of ten minutes brings you to 
 the heights of the Taunus, with a view over the valleys 
 of the Main and Ehine, as far as Frankfort, Worms, 
 and Mayence. Here I can look all around for days and 
 days, and require nothing farther, and yet do as much, 
 or, in fact, more, than in the midst of the excitement 
 in London. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Fanny Hensel, Berlin. 
 
 Soden, July 25th, 1844. 
 
 If you refilse to come to Soden for a fortnight, to 
 enjoy with me the incredible fascinations of this coun- 
 try and locality, aU my descriptions are of no avail; 
 and alas ! I know too well that you will not come. I 
 therefore spare you many descriptions. My family im- 
 prove every day in health, while I lie under apple-trees 
 
RELAXATION. 
 
 331 
 
 and huge oaks. In the latter case, I request the swine- 
 herd to drive his animals under some other tree, not to 
 disturb me (this happened yesterday) ; further, I eat 
 strawberries with - my coffee, at dinner and supper ; I 
 drink the waters of the Asmannshauser spring, rise at 
 six o’clock, and yet sleep nine hours and a half (pray, 
 Fanny, at what hour do I go to bed ?). I visit all the 
 wondrously beautiful environs, I generally meet Herr 
 B. in the most romantic spot of all (happened yester- 
 day), who gives me the latest and best report of you 
 all, and addresses me as G-eneral Music Director, which 
 sounds as strange here as Oberursel, and Lorschbach, 
 and Schneidheim would to you. Then towards evening 
 I had visits from Lenau, and Hoffmann von Fallers- 
 leben, and Freiligrath, when we stroll through the fields 
 for a quarter of an hour near home, and find fault with 
 the system of the world, utter prophecies about the 
 weather, and are unable to say what England is pre- 
 pared to do in the future. Further, I sketch busily, 
 and compose still more busily. (A propoSj look for the 
 organ piece in A major, that I composed for your wed- 
 ding, and wrote out in Wales, and send it to me here 
 immediately ; you' shall positively have it back, but I 
 require it. I have promised an English publisher to 
 furnish him with a whole book of organ pieces, and as 
 I was writing out one after another, that former one 
 recurred to me. I like the beginning, but detest the 
 middle, and am rewriting it with another choral fugue ; 
 but should like to compare it with the original, so pray 
 send it here.) Further, I must unluckily go to-morrow 
 to Zweibrucken,* and I don’t feel much disposed for 
 
 * To direct the musical festival there. 
 
332 
 
 Mendelssohn’s lettehs. 
 
 this; still, there is first-rate wine at Durkheim (as 
 credible witnesses inform me), and I hear the country 
 is very beautiful, and to-morrow week (Grod willing) I 
 shall be here again, when I shall once more lie under 
 the apple-trees, etc., dal segno. Ah I if this could go on 
 for ever I 
 
 Jesting apart, the contrast of these days with my 
 stay in England is so remarkable, that I can never for- 
 get it. The previous three weeks not a single hour un- 
 occupied, and here the whole of the bright days free, 
 without an employment of any kind, except what I 
 choose for myself (which is the sole fruitful and profitable 
 kind), and what is not done to-day is done to-morrow, 
 and there is leisure for everything. In England this 
 time, it was indeed wonderful ; but I must describe to 
 you when we meet each concert there, and each 
 bramble-bush here. 
 
 Now, tell me what you are doing, and Ae, and all of 
 you. It is high time that Sebastian* should write me 
 a letter. Eead him these lines from his uncle (no other 
 part of the letter ; he ought to think it contained some- 
 thing worth reading), and do really make him write to 
 me. But I stipulate beforehand, that none of you are 
 to read his letter, or he would be on ceremony, and 
 write in a fine style, or even write first a rough copy. 
 
 Farewell, dear Sister ; may we soon meet again. Do 
 not forget the piece for the organ, and still less its au 
 thor ; forget, however, the stupidity of this letter, and 
 that I am such a lazy correspondent. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 * The son of his sister Fanny. 
 
EXCURSION TO WIESBADEN. 
 
 333 
 
 To Fanny Hensel, Berlin. 
 
 Soden, August 1844. 
 
 Look again in the music shelves, in the compartment 
 where there is a great deal of loose music lying; among 
 it you will find an open red portfolio, which contains 
 a quantity of my unbound manuscript music — songs, 
 pianoforte pieces, printed and unprinted; there you will 
 positively find the organ piece in A major. It is just 
 possible that I may in so far be mistaken ; that it is in 
 a hound music-book which hes in “ my compartment,” 
 and in which many similar pieces are bound together. 
 I found the piece, however, in one of the two last 
 winter, and stans pede in uno (Sebastian will explain 
 this) looked through it, marvelled at the odious middle 
 part, and also at the charming commencement (between 
 ourselves, all from modesty). Now, pray search dili- 
 gently, and send it off to Soden as soon as you find it. 
 I shall laugh heartily if, by describing to you at the 
 distance of Soden where the piece is, you find it. I 
 must tease you about this for the rest of my life. 
 
 I am going to make an expedition on foot to Wies- 
 baden to-morrow, to visit Uncle Joseph; and the day 
 after to Hamburg, also on foot, to attend Dohler’s con- 
 cert. Prume is to call for me, and we are to go 
 together. I heard Ddhler and Piatti in their last con- 
 cert in London, and clapped and shouted for them ; and 
 now I mean to do the same at Hamburg, which will be 
 diverting enough. The day before yesterday I was at 
 Eppstein, where there was a new organ and a church 
 festival, and where the Vocal Associations of Frank* 
 
334 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 fort, Wiesbaden, and Mayence offered to sing, and were 
 present; but a letter came from the Amtmann in 
 Kdnigstein forbidding them to sing, so they set off, and 
 went to Hofheim (do you know the white chapel, 
 which is visible in the whole country round ? Paul 
 will tell you about it), and there they sang. Towards 
 evening, as I was driving quietly with the ladies and 
 all the children on the high-road through Hofheim, we 
 saw heads innumerable peeping out of the windows of 
 the inn, — all, T suspect, more or less tipsy, — shouting 
 out loud vivafs to me. The ladies wished to stop there 
 to have some coffee, but I opposed this strongly, so we 
 ate pound-cake in the carriage. 
 
 But I must now tell you of my works ; there is little 
 enough to say about them as yet. With the exception 
 of five great organ pieces, and three little songs, 
 nothing is finished ; the symphony makes but slow 
 progress ; I have resumed a Psalm. If I could only 
 continue to live during half a year as I have done here 
 for a fortnight past, what might I not accomplish? 
 But the regulation and direction of so many concerts, 
 and attending others, is no joke, and nothing is gained 
 by it. I feel always at home among cows and pigs, and 
 like best to be with my equals, — the one is the result 
 of the other, you will say ; but, to let bad jokes alone, 
 I am not a little pleased with your nevr songs. Would 
 that I could hear them forthwith ! But it will certainly 
 be September before we see each other again, as 
 Madame Bunsen has written that she has been charged 
 to inform me the King does not expect me back in 
 Berlin till the end of September. We have had for 
 Bome days past such abominable weather, that this is 
 
HERR BIJHl’s WINE CELLARS. 
 
 335 
 
 the first day I have been able to cross the threshold 
 since I left Eppstein. My letter^ therefore, is not so 
 cheerful as you could desire ; but I cannot help it, for 
 the Altkonig looks too Btern and gloomy. I must 
 describe to you my journey back from Zweibriicken. 
 My landlord drove me the first stage in his carriage ; 
 there the Landrath von Pirmaseus received us with a 
 breakfast, and very fine wine (this was at eight o’clock 
 in the morning), and drove us a stage further in his 
 carriage, to a grand old castle in the Yosges, where we 
 dined, and ascended a hill in the afternoon. Cannons 
 were fired there to show the echo, and champagne 
 drunk, and at every fresh toast the cannons were dis- 
 charged. He then drove us another stage, where the 
 proprietor of St. Joharm took us under his charge, and 
 gave us quarters for the night, and good wine ; and 
 next morning came another Zweibrtickner with his 
 carriage, and, after drinking a little more good wine, we 
 drove on to Deidesheim, where Herr Buhl was waiting 
 to receive us in his vaults ; but who and what Herr 
 Buhl and his vaults are, it is quite impossible for me to 
 describe to you, — you must come and taste for your- 
 selfj I mean the Forster of 1842, which he fabricates. 
 The cellars were lighted up, and there lay all the valuable 
 hogsheads ; and the rooms above these cellars were as 
 elegant as possible, adorned with paintings by Lo Spasi- 
 mo” and the great Koberts, and Winterhalter’s Deca- 
 meron;” and a fine new grand pianoforte, by Streicher; 
 and a pretty vv oman, who in autumn selects the particu- 
 lar grapes in the bunches to be used in making the wine, 
 which — but excuse the rest. StiU, those who have not 
 paid a visit to Herr Buhl (or to his brother-in-law, 
 
336 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 Herr Jordan) do not know what Forster is here below. 
 They insisted on our dining with them, though we 
 ought not to have done so, being expected to dinner at 
 Durkheim; still, we dined all the same (Richard 
 Boeckh will fully confirm all this, for he was with us 
 the whole time), and when dinner was over, Herr 
 Buhl drove us in his phaeton to Durkheim (three-quar- 
 ters of a Grerman mile) in twenty minutes, so that we 
 might not arrive too late for dinner ; and in Durkheim 
 we found half the musical festival again assembled, and 
 wreaths, and inscriptions, and ripe grapes ; only we 
 could drink no more wine after that of Herr Buhl I 
 
 This is the national song of the Palatinate, called 
 “ Der Jager aus Kurpfalz.” It is sung the whole five- 
 long day, blown on horns by postilions, played as a se- 
 renade by regimental bands, and used as a march ; and, 
 if a native of the Palatinate comes to see you, and you 
 wish to give him pleasure, you must play it to him ; 
 but with abandon^ and with great expression, — that is 
 jovially. 
 
 Such was my journey back from the Palatinate ; and 
 
RETURN FROM THE PALATINATE. 
 
 337 
 
 if you find this description somewhat inebriated, I have 
 certainly hit on the right key, for from nine o’clock in 
 the morning we were never really quite steady, though 
 I can assure you that until the evening I invariably 
 displayed great dignity and propriety. (I refer you to 
 Eichard Boeckh.) After the performance of St. Paul,” 
 he suddenly and unexpectedly emerged from among 
 the public, and you may imagine with what joy I re- 
 cognized my Boccia comrade from the Leipziger Strasse, 
 No. 3,* among all the strange faces; and to use an ex- 
 pression of the Palatinate, I held him fast. As to the 
 performances themselves, — now I must of course resume 
 my usual sober style, for the other forms too great a 
 contrast to my mUier ^ — but no ! I think I must con- 
 tinue my tipsy tone, and tell you that amid a great 
 many deficiencies, we had the best St. Paul and Druid 
 Priest there whom I have yet met with in Germany, 
 namely, a Herr Oberhofer, a singer from Carlsruhe, v/ho 
 was formerly in the capital. I do not know what he 
 may be on the stage, but it is impossible for any one to 
 sing, or to deliver *the music which I heard, better, 
 with more intelligence, or more impressively, than he 
 did. He made the third in our merry return journey. 
 How the Landrath Pirmaseus was thrown into a brook, 
 how Herr Sternfeld used a sausage to conduct the 
 orchestra, and how, in the first part of the oratorio, the 
 player of the kettle-drum beat it in two, and his remark 
 on the subject, when sitting in the street with the 
 others, at half-past two o’clock in the morning, drinking 
 punch, — all this you must hear from my own hps. 
 
 * Mendelssohn’^ paternal home, in which the Boeckh family also 
 resided, 
 
 29 
 
338 
 
 Mendelssohn's letters. 
 
 Keep the whole of this letter strictly private from Se- 
 bastian ; but thank him repeatedly from me for his nice 
 letter. Tell him that I care very little about his hTo. 1, 
 and that he ought not to be in any hurry to come to 
 Unterseciinda. When all number ones^ and classes, and 
 examinations, come to an end, and when no man living 
 either asks for or gives testimonials, then learning will 
 first begin in good earnest, and all our energies will be 
 called forth, and yet we shall obtain no red certificates ; 
 and that would indeed be delightful, and that would in- 
 deed be life itself. And thus it is that I care so little 
 about No. 1 of Untertertia, or for No. 1 of the Order 
 of the Eed Eagle, or for all the other numbers in the 
 world. Or, if this be too philosophical for you, or too 
 unphilosophical, then keep it from him also; but it 
 forms a part of my creed. May we have a pleasant, 
 happy, speedy meeting! — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Professor Yerhulst, the Hague. 
 
 Berlin, November 17th, 1844. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Pray accept my thanks for your kind letter, and 
 the accompanying parcel, with its rich and valuable 
 contents. 
 
 If you are like me, you can hear nothing more wel- 
 come about your works than when you are told that 
 you have made progress in them; and in those you 
 have now sent me, this is very manifest throughout 
 them all. They are almost in every respect masterly 
 
FRIENDLY ENCOURAGEMENT. 
 
 339 
 
 and defined, and devoid of all that is false or incongruous, 
 in individual passages ; and when taken as a whole, if 
 one piece appears more finished or more sympathetic 
 than another, what is so fine in Art is precisely that it 
 gives no mastery so entire as to rise superior to this ; 
 and one of the secrets of honest assiduous work is, that 
 what is less successful does not give rise to despair, and 
 what is more successful does not give rise to arrogance ; 
 and thus others may get a just insight into the work- 
 shop of the soul of an artist. Such a survey of your 
 present production you have enabled me to make, by 
 the valuable packet you have sent me. A succession 
 of many works displays decidedly what one solitary 
 work cannot do, that you have won for yourself a 
 higher and loftier position by the cultivation of your 
 talents, which rejoices me much, and for which I owe 
 you my sincere and heartfelt thanks. 
 
 May your praiseworthy endeavours to diffuse the 
 knowledge of songs in your mother-tongue prove suc- 
 cessful, and meet with that grateful acknowledgment 
 which they so well deserve ! I know of no more noble 
 aim that any one could propose to himself, than to give 
 music to his own language and to his own country, as 
 you have done and still design to do. These works are 
 a fine commencement for such a purpose ; but, that their 
 tones may not die away unheard by your fellow-coun- 
 trymen, many, many more must yet follow, and with 
 ever-increasing progress. Y ocation and endowments 
 are your own. So, may Heaven grant you also health 
 and steady perseverance, and a happy life I 
 
 This is the wish of your devoted 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
340 
 
 MENDELSSOHN^S LETTERS. 
 
 From Minister Eichhorn.^ to Felix Mendelssohn Bar- 
 tholdy^ at Frankfurt-am-Main, 
 
 Berlin, March 2d, 1845. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 You may remember that I made a report to his 
 Majesty, some years since, on proposals which had been 
 suggested for the establishment of a Conservatorium 
 here; his Majesty, however, was pleased to declare 
 that the establishment of such a Conservatorium was 
 not at present in accordance with his Majesty’s views. 
 The affair has, consequently, remained since that time 
 in abeyance. The absolute necessity of a reform in the 
 Eoyal Academy of Arts seems daily to be more urgent; 
 it therefore becomes a duty to obtain as clear a view 
 as possible of the measures to be pursued, and to settle 
 the preliminary arrangements for the best mode of ful- 
 filling this design. The musical section of the Aca- 
 demy, which cannot be continued under its present 
 regulations, must form one of the most essential points 
 in this reform. As, however, in accordance with the 
 good pleasure of his Majesty, the eventual enlargement 
 of this section to a real Conservatorium is not at present 
 to take place, it seems most advisable not to lose sight 
 of the principle which forms the basis of the present 
 section, and to direct every effort to secure its most 
 perfect development. This principle assumes that the 
 chief object of the musical section should be especially 
 to form a school for musical composition. For this pur- 
 pose, it is, in my opinion, above all expedient that a 
 
 * Inserted in order to make Mendelssohn's rejdy more clear. 
 
THE BERLIN ACADEMY OF ARTS. 
 
 341 
 
 master should stand at thfe head of such a section who, 
 by his own energetic, creative powers, may become a 
 guiding star for others, and thus be enabled to exercise 
 a genuine and stimulating influence; possessing also 
 the ability to examine critically the productions of the 
 scholars, and by his zealous co-operation to guide them 
 on the right path, in the very same way that in the 
 plastic arts the master of the ateliei' stands in relation to 
 his scholars. ^Instruction in the theory and history of 
 music might be shared by other teachers. Steps should 
 besides be taken, by a closer connection with other in- 
 stitutes, or by any other suitable means, to endeavour 
 to form a limited choir and orchestra, which might 
 furnish an opportunity for the performance of classical 
 chefs-d'oeuvre^ as well as of the works of the scholars, 
 and likewise for practice in conducting, — an arrange- 
 ment which, in the event of an urgent and manifest 
 necessity for such a thing, might perhaps at some 
 future day lead to a real Conservatorium. ^ 
 
 You will. Sir, earn my best thanks by being so good 
 as to transmit to me your sentiments on these sugges- 
 tions, and more especially if, in case you agree to these 
 proposals in their general outline, you could also assure 
 me that you are eventually disposed yourself to under- 
 take the direction and the situation of teacher of com- 
 position, in the said musical section. Should this latter 
 proposal, however, not be in conformity with your 
 plans in life, may I request you to name the person 
 among our composers here or elsewhere who, according 
 to your competent judgment, is best suited to superin- 
 tend with success the situation in question, as it seems 
 to me vei y desirable to discuss any further measures 
 29 * 
 
342 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 that may be necessary with the director selected foi 
 that section. — Accept, Sir, etc., 
 
 Eichhorn. 
 
 To Minister Eichhorn, Berlin. 
 
 Frankfurt-am-]J^., March 6th, 1845. 
 
 I must first of all thank your Excellency for the flat- 
 tering proof of confidence contained in the letter I have 
 received from your Excellency, and also for your wish 
 to hear my opinion in so important a matter. That the 
 reform of the Academy of Arts and its musical section, 
 which your Excellency refers to in your letter, will be 
 of the greatest value to the whole musical condition 
 of Berlin, does not admit of the smallest doubt. Your 
 Excellency informs me that it is your intention to 
 effect this by placing a composer at the head of the 
 musical section to be a guiding star to the pupils by 
 his own energetic creative powers, like the master of 
 the atelier in the plastic arts, and you do me honour to 
 mention my name on this occasion, or, in the event of 
 my being prevented accepting this offer, you commis- 
 sion me to point out one of my colleagues in art whom 
 I consider best suited for such a situation. But, in 
 order to form a decided opinion on the matter, I must 
 beg for an explanation of various points which, in this 
 and every other affair of the same kind, appear to me 
 the most important, and before which all personal ques- 
 tions must retire into the background. 
 
 Is the reform which you have in view in the musical 
 
THE BERLIN ACADEMY OF ARTS. 
 
 343 
 
 section, to consist solely in the appointment of such a 
 composer, and the musical section to continue in the 
 same shape as formerly ? If this be the case, what re- 
 lation will such a director assume to the former mem« 
 bers of the senate or section, and to the director of the 
 whole Academy ? Is the distribution of the different 
 branches of instruction to remain the same, or is a 
 reform proposed in this respect also? In what does 
 the actual practical efficacy of such a teacher consist ? 
 It is not possible to show the act of composition, as the 
 master in an atelier does the design of a picture or the 
 form of a model ; and, according to your Excellency’s 
 words, an intellectual influence is what is chiefly re- 
 quired. Such an influence, according to my conviction, 
 is only to be obtained in the School of Art, when the 
 whole course of instruction has already laid a sound 
 foundation, when all the teachers in their positive de- 
 partments strive towards the same point, when no 
 actual deficiency is anywhere overlooked in the edu- 
 cation, and, finally, when, as a key-stone, the corre- 
 sponding impulses of this education are combined 
 and placed before the scholars in their practical applica- 
 tion, and thus more strongly impressed on their minds. 
 In this sense I could well imagine such a new active 
 situation fruitful for good and for influence; but it 
 seems to me that for this purpose it is not merely the 
 situation itself which is to effect it, but in reality a 
 reform of the whole inner constitution of the Academy ; 
 and I do not know whether this enters into your Excel- 
 lency’s views, or indeed be within the range of possi- 
 bility. Without this, the position, though undoubtedly 
 highly honourable, would be devoid of aU real, practical 
 
344 
 
 Mendelssohn's letters. 
 
 utility ; a merely universal excitement, however great, 
 can at best only call forth an unfiuitful enthusiasm in 
 the minds of the scholars, if indeed it calls forth any- 
 thing whatsoever. The teachers of positive science 
 alone would, in such a case, acquire a decided influence 
 on the development of young artists ; the professor at 
 the head, influencing only by example, would, on the 
 other hand, be like a mere airy phantom, and the con- 
 nection between the head and the limbs fail, without 
 which neither the head nor the limbs can live or thrive. 
 
 If your Excellency will be so good' as to give me 
 some more precise information on this matter, I shall 
 then be in a position to form a clearer view of the affair 
 itself, as well as of the personal questions connected 
 with it ; and I shall esteem it my duty, on this as on 
 every other subject, to state my opinion candidly to 
 your Excellency.* — Your devoted 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To Felix MendelssoJin Bartholdy^ from the Qeheim 
 Cabinetsrath Midler A 
 
 Berlin, March 5th, 1845. 
 
 It is proposed to set to music the choruses of the 
 trilogy of “Agamemnon,” the “ Choephoree, ” and the 
 “Eumenides,” to be combined and curtailed for per- 
 formance. According to Tieck’s information, you de- 
 
 * This communication also led to no results. 
 
 t Here also this letter to Mendelssohn seems necessary to render his 
 reply intelligible. 
 
CHORUSES TO GREEK PLAYS. 
 
 345 
 
 clined the composition in this form. The King can 
 scarcely believe this, as his Majesty distinctly remem- 
 bers that you, esteemed Sir, personally assured him 
 that you were prepared to undertake this composition. 
 I am therefore commissioned by the King to ask, 
 whether the affair may not be considered settled by 
 your verbal assent, and whether, in pursuance of this, 
 you feel disposed to be so kind as to declare your 
 readiness to undertake the composition, which will be 
 a source of much pleasure to the King, and in accor- 
 dance with your promise, gladly to comply with any 
 wishes of his Majesty. — I am, Sir, your obedient, 
 
 Muller. 
 
 To Gteheim Cabinetsrath Muller, Berlin. 
 
 Frankfort, March 12th, 1845. 
 
 His Majesty the King never spoke to me on the 
 subject of the choruses in the combined and curtailed 
 trilogy of ‘^Agamemnon,” the “ Choephorse,” and the 
 ^•Eumenides.” His Majesty certainly was pleased to 
 appoint me the task last winter of composing music for 
 the choruses in ^schylus’s Eumenides.” I could 
 not promise to supply this music, because I at once 
 saw that the undertaking was beyond my capabilities • 
 still I promised his Majesty to make the attempt, not 
 concealing at the same time the almost insuperable 
 difficulties which caused me to doubt the success of 
 the attempt.* 
 
 * See the Letter to Bunsen of May Ist, 1844. 
 
346 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 Since then, I have occupied myself for a considerable 
 time, in the most earnest manner, with the tragedy. I 
 have endeavoured by every means in my power to ex- 
 tract a musical sense from these choruses, in order to 
 render them suitable for composition, but I have not 
 succeeded, and have not been enabled to fulfil the task 
 in the case of one of them, in such a manner as is de- 
 manded by the loftiness of the subject, and the refined 
 artistic perceptions of the King. Of course the question 
 was not that of writing tolerably suitable music for the 
 choruses, such as any composer conversant with the 
 forms of art could write for almost every word, but the 
 injunction was to create for the JEschylus choruses 
 music in the good and scientific style of the present 
 day, which should express their meaning, with life and 
 reality. I have endeavoured to do this in my music to 
 ^‘Antigone,” with the Sophocles choruses; with regard, 
 however, to the ^schylus choruses, in spite of all my 
 strenuous efforts, I have not hitherto succeeded even 
 in any one attempt. 
 
 The contraction of these pieces into one, exceedingly 
 augments the difficulty, and I venture to assert that no 
 living musician is in a position to solve this giant task 
 conscientiously; far less, then, can I pretend to do so. 
 
 In requesting your Excellency to communicate this 
 to his Majesty, I also beg you at the same time to 
 mention the three compositions of mine, which, by his 
 Majesty’s comm^ands, are now ready for performance, 
 namely, the “(Edipus Coloneus,” the Athalie ” of 
 Racine, and the (Edipus Rex ” of Sophocles. The en- 
 tire full scores of the two former are completed, first 
 and last, so that nothing further is required for their 
 
MUSIC TO GREEK CHORUSES. 
 
 347 
 
 representation, except the distribution of the parts to 
 the actors and singers. The sketch of the (Edipus 
 Rex ” is also completed. I mention these, in the hope 
 that they may furnish a proof that I always consider 
 the fulfilment of his Majesty’s commands as a duty and 
 a pleasure, so long as I can entertain any hope of per- 
 forming the task worthily j and to show that when I 
 allow even one to remain unfulfilled, it* arises solely 
 from want of abihty, and never from want of intention. 
 
 Answer from Muller. 
 
 Berlin, March 19th, 1845. 
 
 Immediately on receipt of your esteemed letter of 
 the 12th instant, I took an opportunity to inform his 
 Majesty of its contents. The King laments being 
 obhged to resign the great pleasure it would have 
 caused his Majesty to see the JEschylus choruses com- 
 posed by you, but rejoices in the completion of the 
 Sophocles trilogy, and also in that of “ Athalie.” The 
 King hopes for your presence here in the approaching 
 summer, as his Majesty wishes to become acquainted 
 with these new compositions under your direction 
 alone. 
 
348 
 
 Mendelssohn's letters. 
 
 To 1 . Moscheles, London. 
 
 Frankfort, March 7th, 1845. 
 
 My dear Friend, 
 
 It is so good and kind of you to write me a gossip- 
 ing letter again, as in the good old times. I leave 
 everything undone and untouched till I have answered 
 you, and thadked you for all your continued friendship 
 and kindness towards me. What you say of the 
 English musical doings certainly does not sound very 
 satisfactory, but where are they really satisfactory? 
 Only within a man’s own heart ; and there we find no 
 such doings, but something far better. So little benefit 
 is derived even by the public itself from all this direct- 
 ing and these musical performances, — a little better, a 
 little worse, what does it matter ? how quickly is it 
 forgotten ! and what really influences all this and 
 advances and promotes it, are after all the quiet calm 
 moments of the inner man, taking in tow all these pub- 
 lic fallacies and dragging them to and fro as they well 
 deserve. Probably you will say this is the way in 
 which a domestic animal, or a snail, or an old-fashioned 
 grumbler, would speak; and yet there is some truth 
 in it ; and one book of your studies has had more influ- 
 ence on the public and on Art, than I do not know 
 how many morning and evening concerts during how 
 many years. Do you see what I am aiming at? I 
 should like so very much to get the sonata as a duett, 
 or the “ Etudes ” as duetts or solos, or, in short, some- 
 thing. 
 
 I much regret the affair with the Handel Society 
 
 ♦ Eeferring to his edition of “ Israel in Egypt,” for this Society. 
 
THE HANDEL SOCIETY. 
 
 349 
 
 but it is impossible for me to alter my views on the 
 subject. Though quite ready to yield in non-essential 
 points, Such as the mode of marking accidentals, — 
 though in this, even, owing to the long bars, I prefer 
 the old fashion, — yet on no account whatever would I 
 interpolate marks of expression, tempi^ etc., or anything 
 else, in a score of Handel’s, if there is to be any doubt 
 whether they are mine or his ; and as he has marked 
 pianos and fortes and figured bass wherever he thought 
 them essential, I must either leave these out altogether, 
 or place the public under the impossibility of discover- 
 ing which are his marks and which are mine. To 
 extract these signs from the pianoforte edition, and 
 transfer them to the score, if mine are to he inserted^ 
 would cause very little trouble to any one who wishes 
 to have the score thus marked; while, on the other 
 hand, the injury is very great if the edition does not 
 distinguish between the opinion of the editor and the 
 opinion of Handel. I confess that the whole interest I 
 take in the Society is connected with this point, for the 
 edition of the Anthems which I formerly saw was of a 
 kind, precisely owing to the new marking, that I could 
 never adopt for performance. Above ail, I must know 
 exactly and beyond all doubt what is Handel’s and 
 what is not. The Council supported me in this opinion 
 when I was present, now they seem to have adopted a 
 contrary one ; if this is to be followed out, I, and I fear 
 many others, would much prefer the old edition with 
 its false notes, to the new, with its different readings 
 and signs in the text. I have already written all this 
 to Macfarren. I am sure you are not angry with me 
 for stating my opinion so candidly ? it is too closely 
 30 
 
350 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 connected witli all that I have considered right, during 
 the whole course of my life, for me now to give it up. 
 
 Andre has just sent me the original score, to look 
 over, of Mozart’s symphony in C major, “Jupiter;” I 
 will copy for you something out of it that will amuse 
 you. The eleven bars at the close of the adagio were 
 formerly written thus : — 
 
 i= 
 
 ^ A 
 
 
 
 
 
 -Bd 
 
 7 ^ 
 
 and so on to the end. 
 
 He has written the whole repetition of the thema on 
 a separate leaf, and struck out this passage, bringing 
 it in again only three bars before the end. Is not this 
 a happy alteration ? The repetition of the seven bars 
 is to me one of the most delightful passages in the 
 whole symphony I 
 
SPRING AT FRANKFORT. 351 
 
 Give my kind remembrances to your family, and re- 
 tain a kindly regard for your 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Barthold y. 
 
 To Eebecca Birichlet, Florence. 
 
 Frankfort, March 25th, 1845. 
 
 Bear Sister, 
 
 I continue faithful to the new custom I have adopted, 
 and answer your welcome letter on the spot ; it is just 
 come, and brings spring with it. For the first time to- 
 day we have, out of doors, that kind of atmosphere in 
 which ice and winter cold melt away, and all becomes 
 mild, and warm, and enjoyable. If, however, you have 
 no driving ice in Florence, you ought to envy us^ instead 
 of the reverse, for it is a splendid spectacle to see the 
 water bubbling under the bridge here, and springing 
 and rushing along, and flinging about the great blocks 
 and masses of ice, and saying, “ Away with you I we 
 have done with you for the present I” it also is cele- 
 brating its spring day, and showing that under its icy 
 covering it has preserved both strength and youth, and 
 runs along twice as rapidly, and leaps twice as high, as 
 in the sober days of other seasons. You should really 
 see it for once ! The whole bridge and the whole quay 
 are black with people, all enjoying the fine sight gratis, 
 with the sun shining on them gratis too. It is very 
 pitiable in me, that, instead of speaking of the poetry 
 of spring, I only talk of the economy she brings in 
 wood, light, and overshoes, and how much sweetei 
 
352 
 
 MENDELSSOHN'S LETTERS. 
 
 everything smells, and how many more good things 
 there are to eat, and that the ladies have resumed their 
 bright gay-coloured dresses, and that the steamboats 
 are going down the Ehine, instead of diligences, etc. 
 etc. From above you will perceive, and Fanny also 
 (for you must send her all my letters to Rome), that, 
 G-od be praised, there is nothing new with us, which 
 means that we are all well and happy, and thinking of 
 
 you. I came with S last night at one o’clock from 
 
 a punch party, where I first played Beethoven’s sonata 
 106, in B flat, and then drank two hundred and twelve 
 glasses of punch fortissimo ; we sang the duett from 
 “ Faust ” in the Mainz Street, because there was such 
 wonderful moonlight, and to-day I have rather a head- 
 ache. Pray cut off this part before you send the letter 
 to Rome ; a younger sister may be intrusted with such 
 a confidence, but an elder one, and in such a Papal 
 atmosphere, — not for your life ! 
 
 I have only seen X three times this winter ; he 
 
 is, unfortunately, very unsociable ; I cannot get on 
 with him even with the best v/ill on my side, and I 
 believe he is going on worse now than for many years 
 past. Any one who at all enters into the religious 
 squabbles of the moment, and does not steadily refuse 
 to listen to them, one and all, will get so deeply in- 
 volved, as to be ere long severed unawares from both 
 friends and happiness, and instances of this begin to be 
 manifest in Germany in all circles. In my inmost 
 heart I feel uncertain as to which extreme is the most 
 repugnant to me, and yet I cannot clearly decide 
 between them. 
 
 In Diisseldorf they announced, on the second day of 
 
FKIENDLY CRITICISMS. 
 
 353 
 
 the Musical Festival, Mozart’s “ Eequiem,” my “ Wal- 
 purgis Nacht,” and finally Beethoven’s choral sympho- 
 ny. “0 temporal 0 mores!” If you ask what this 
 letter contains, the answer is, that we are all weU, and 
 hope you are the same, and rejoice at the thoughts of 
 our meeting again. — Your (in spring weather) very 
 nleased 
 
 Felix, 
 
 To Emil Naumann, 
 
 {Now Music Director at Berlin.) 
 
 Leipzig, March, 1845. 
 
 Dear Herr Haumann, 
 
 I have observed with much pleasure very important 
 progress in the compositions which you have sent me, 
 and essential improvement in your whole musical 
 nature and efi&ciency. I consider these works in every 
 particular preferable to your earlier ones, and, conse- 
 quently, they cause me most extreme gratification. 
 There is much in them to be unreservedly commended ; 
 almost all. when compared with your productions of 
 past years, awaken in me a fresh hope that you will 
 one day be able to produce something really vigorous 
 and good, and that it only rests with yourself to fulfil 
 this hope. 
 
 I have nothing special to say to you with regard to 
 the works, and indeed, owing to the mass of afiairs and 
 occupations which crowd on me here, I can now less 
 than ever find time to write. But it is not necessary, 
 30* 
 
354 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 for throughout I see traces of the good advice of youi 
 present instructor,* and feel increased respect for him 
 in consequence of your progress. You are certainly, 
 with him, in the best hands possible ; attend assidu- 
 ously therefore to his advice, and take advantage of his 
 instructions, and of the lime in which you can and 
 must learn. 
 
 I should like to hear you play the capriccio in C, for 
 if you can play it with steadiness and clearness, and 
 keep correct time, you must have improved very much. 
 I like this capriccio better than the one in E minor, and 
 it seems to me more original. On the other hand, there 
 is a great deal that pleases me in the sonata ; particu- 
 larly the beginning and end of the first movement, and 
 the tempo di marcia^ etc. etc. As I said before, you 
 must continue to work : I must also beg you to place 
 the same reliance henceforth on me, that you so kindly 
 express in your letter. And as you apply Goethe’s 
 words to me, and call me a master ^ I can only reply 
 once more in Goethe’s words : — 
 
 “ Learn soon to know wherein he fails ; 
 
 True Art, and not its type, revere.” 
 
 The advice in the first line is not difficult to follow, 
 and the latter is not to be feared with you. Towards 
 Whitsunday, when I am to be at Aix, I intend to pass 
 through Frankfort, and hope then to see and hear some- 
 thing new of yours. — Always yours sincerely, 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 * Franz Messer, at Frankfort-on-the-Main. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF FRANKFORT. 
 
 355 
 
 To Senator Bernus, Frankfort. 
 
 Leipzig, October 10 th, 1845. 
 
 ... I cannot tell you how often, indeed almost 
 daily, I think of the last winter and spring which I 
 passed so pleasantly with you in Frankfort. I could 
 scarcely myself have believed that my stay there would 
 have caused such a lasting and happy impression on 
 my mind ! So strong is it, that I have often pictured 
 to myself, in all earnest, giving you a commission 
 (according to your promise) to buy or to build for me 
 a house with a garden, when I would return perma- 
 nently to that glorious country with its gay easy life. 
 But such happiness cannot be mine ; some years must 
 first elapse, and the work I have begun here must 
 have produced solid results, and be a good deal further 
 advanced (at least I must have tried to effect it), before 
 I can think of such a thing. 
 
 But I have the same feeling as formerly, that I shall 
 only remain in this place so long as I feel pleasure and 
 interest in the outward occupations which here seem the 
 most a :reeable to me. As soon, however, as I have 
 won the right to live solely for my inward work and 
 composing, only occasionally conducting and playing in 
 pubhc just as it may suit me, then I shall assuredly 
 return to the Ehine, and probably, according to my 
 present idea, settle at Frankfort. The sooner I can do 
 so, the mora I shall be pleased. I never undertook 
 external musical pursuits, such as conducting, etc., from 
 inclination, but only from a sense of duty; so I hope, 
 before many years are over, to apply myself to building 
 a house. 
 
356 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 Before then, probably, either a true and solid nucleus 
 will have been formed among the German Catholics in 
 favour of enlightenment and other new German ideas, 
 and free ground and soil won for these, or the whole 
 movement will have vanished and been superseded by 
 other catastrophes. If neither the one nor the other 
 occurs, I fear we run the risk of losing our finest 
 national features, solidity, constancy, and honourable 
 perseverance, without gaining any compensation for 
 them. A collection of French phrases and French 
 levity would be too dearly bought at such a price. It 
 is to be hoped that something better will ensue I 
 
 To Pastor Bauer, Beszig. 
 
 Leipzig, May 23d, 1846. 
 
 Your kind letter and the book caused me great plea- 
 sure. I received the parcel some weeks since, but as 
 I have very little time left for reading, and as a work 
 like yours cannot be quickly perused by a layman, 
 you will be able to understand the delay in express- 
 ing my thanks. I have learnt much from your book, 
 for it is in fact the first summary of Church history that 
 I ever read; but from this very circumstance you are 
 mistaken in my position if you think I ^ould attempt 
 either verbally or in writing to maintain my own opi- 
 nions on such a matter, when opposed to yours, and 
 that I might see it in^a different light as a musician, 
 etc. The only point of view from which I can consider 
 
FORMATION OF OPINIONS. 
 
 357 
 
 such questions is that of a learner, and I confess to 
 you that the older I become, the more do I perceive 
 the importance of first learning and then forming an 
 opinion ; not the latter previous to the former, and not 
 both simultaneously. In this I certainly differ much 
 from very many of our leading men of the present day, 
 both in music and theology. They declare that he 
 alone can form a right judgment who has learned 
 nothing, and indeed requires to learn nothing; and my 
 rejoinder is, that there is no man living who does not 
 require to learn. I think, therefore, that it is more 
 than ever the duty of every one to be very industrious 
 in his sphere, and to concentrate all his powers to accom- 
 plish the very best of which he is capable ; and thus 
 the recent Church movements are more unknown to 
 me than you probably believe (perhaps more than you 
 would approve), and I rejoice that the very reverse is 
 . the case with you. I cannot, in fact, understand a 
 theologian who at this moment does not come forward, 
 or who feels no sympathy in these matters ; but just 
 as little, many of those 7 ^ 07 ^-theologians whom I often 
 see, and who talk of reformation and of improvement, 
 but who are equally incompetent to know or to compre- 
 hend either the present or the past, and who, in short, 
 wish to introduce dilettanteismmio the highest questions. 
 
 I believe it is this very dilettanteism which plays us 
 many a trick, because it is of a twofold nature, — neces- 
 sary, useful, and beneficial, when coupled with sincere 
 interest and modest reserve, for then it furthers and 
 promotes all things, — but culpable and contemptible 
 when fed on vanity, and when obtrusive, arrogant^ and 
 seff-sufficient. For instance, there are few artists for 
 
358 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 whom I feel so much respect as for a genuine dilettante 
 of the first class, and for no single artist have I so httle 
 respect as for a dilettante of the second class. But 
 where am I wandering to ? . . . 
 
 To Pastor Julius Schubring, Dessau. 
 
 Leipzig, May 23d, 1846. 
 
 Dear Schubring, 
 
 Once more I must trouble you about Elijah;” I 
 hope it is for the last time, and I also hope that you 
 will at some future day derive enjoyment from it ; and 
 how glad I should be were this to be the case I I have 
 now quite finished the first part, and six or eight num- 
 bers of the second are already written down. In vari- 
 ous places, however, of the second part I require a 
 choice of really fine Scriptural passages, and I do beg 
 of you to send them to me I I set off to-night for the 
 Ehine, so there is no hurry about them ; but in three 
 weeks I return here, and then I purpose forthwith to 
 take up the work and complete it. So I earnestly be- 
 seech of you to send me by that time a rich harvest of 
 fine Bible texts. You cannot believe how much you 
 have helped me in the first part ; this I will tell you 
 more fully when we meet. On this very account I en- 
 treat you to assist me in improving the second part 
 also. I have* now been able to dispense with all histo- 
 rical recitative in the form, and introduced individual 
 persons. Instead of the Lord, always an angel or a 
 chorus of angels, and the first part and the largest half 
 
PROGRESS OF ELIJAH. 
 
 359 
 
 of the second are finely rounded off. The second part 
 begins with the words of the queen, So let the gods 
 do to me, and more also,” etc. (1 Kings xix. 2); and 
 the next words about which I feel secure are those in 
 the scene in the wilderness (same chapter, fourth and 
 following verses) ; but between these I want, first^ 
 something more particularly characteristic of the perse- 
 cution of the prophet ; for example, I should like to 
 have a couple of choruses against him, to describe the 
 people in their fickleness and their rising in opposition 
 to him ; secondly^ a representation of the third verse of 
 the same passage ; for instance, a duett with the boy, 
 who might use the words of Euth, Where thou goest, 
 I will go,” etc. But what is Elijah to say before and 
 after this ? and what could the chorus say ? Can you 
 furnish me with, first, a duett, and then a chorus in this 
 sense ? Then, till verse 15, all is in order ; but there a 
 passage is wanted for Ehjah, something to this effect : — 
 Lord, as Thou wiliest, be it with me;” (this is not in 
 the Bible, I believe ?) I also wish that after the mani- 
 festation of the Lord he should announce his entire 
 submission, and after aU this persecution declare him- 
 self to be entirely resigned, and eager to do his duty. 
 I am in want, too, of some words for him to say at, or 
 before, or even after his ascension, and also some for the 
 chorus. The chorus sings the ascension historically 
 with the words from 2 Kings ii. 11, but then there 
 ought to be a couple of very solemn choruses. God 
 is gone up” will not do, for it was not the Lord, but 
 Elijah who went up ; however, something of that sort. 
 I should hke also to hear Elijah’s voice once more at 
 the close. 
 
Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 mo 
 
 (May Elisha sing soprano ? or is this inadmissible, as 
 in the same chapter he is described as a “ bald head”? 
 Joking apart, must he appear at the ascension as a pro- 
 phet, or as a youth ?) 
 
 Lastly, the passages which you have sent for the 
 close of the whole (especially the trio between Peter, 
 John, and James) are too historical and too far removed 
 from the grouping of the (Old Testament) story; still 
 I could manage with the former, if, instead of the trio, 
 I could make a chorus out of the words ; it would be 
 very quickly done, and this will probably be the case. 
 I return you the pages that you may have every neces- 
 sary information, but pray send them back to me. 
 You will see that the bearing of the whole is quite 
 decided ; it is only the lyric passages (from which arias, 
 duetts, etc., could be composed) which fail towards the 
 end. So I beg you wiU get your large Concordance, 
 open it, and bestow this time on me, and when I return 
 three weeks hence at latest, let me find your answer. 
 Continue your regard for your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To I. Moscheles, London. 
 
 Leipzig, JuDe 26th, 1846. 
 
 My dear Friend, 
 
 The cause of this letter is a line in a recent com- 
 munication from Mr. Moore, who writes, “ Nearly the 
 whole of the Philharmonic band are engaged;* a 
 
 * For the Musical Festival in Birmingham, where “-Elijah” was per 
 formed for the first time. 
 
BIRMINGKAM MUSICAL FESTIVAL. 
 
 361 
 
 few only are left out who made themselves unpleasant 
 when you were there.”* This is anything but pleas- 
 ing to me, and as I think that you have the princi- 
 pal regulation of such things, I address my remon- 
 strance to you, and beg you to mention them to Mr. 
 Moore. 
 
 Nothing is more hateful to me than the revival of old 
 worn-out squabbles ; it is quite bad enough that they 
 should ever be in the world at all. Those of the Phil- 
 harmonic I had quite forgotten, and they must on no 
 account have any influence on the engagements for the 
 Birmingham Festival. If people are left out because 
 they are incapable, that is no affair of mine, and I have 
 nothing to say against it ; but if any one is to be left 
 out because he made himself unpleasant” to me, I 
 should consider it a piece of injustice, and beg that this 
 may not be the case. There is certainly no cause to 
 fear that those gentlemen will again be troublesome ; 
 at least, I feel none, and do not believe that any one 
 can do so. So I beg you earnestly to let the affair pro- 
 ceed exactly as it would have done if I had no thoughts 
 of coming to England ,* and if it be really desired to 
 show me consider ation^ the greatest favour that can be 
 conferred on me would be not to take notice of any such 
 personal considerations. 
 
 I know you will be so good as to bring this subject 
 under the notice of Mr. Moore, and I hope I shall hear 
 nothing further of these obsolete stories ; that is, if my 
 wishes are complied with, and no hind of vindictiveness 
 
 * In relation to a couple of members of the orchestra, who took the 
 liberty to make some saucy remarks on Mendelssohn coming in rathei 
 late one morning to direct a rehearsal at the Philharmonic. 
 
 31 
 
362 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 exercised. Otherwise I shall protest against it ten 
 times at least by letter. — ^Ever your 
 
 Eelix. 
 
 To Herr Velten, Garlsruhe. 
 
 Leipzig, July 11th, 1846. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 When I received your letter of May the 10th, I felt 
 most anxious to convey to you a word of consolation, 
 and the assurance of my heartfelt sympathy; but I 
 could find no words for such a loss as yours, or ade- 
 quately express what I wished to say. 
 
 Far more could I appreciate the extent of this loss 
 when I had become acquainted with the musical com- 
 positions which you so kindly sent me, in the name of 
 your deceased son. Every one who is in earnest with 
 regard to Art must indeed mourn with you, for in him 
 a true genius has passed away, a genius that only re- 
 quired life and health to be developed, and to be a 
 source of joy and pride to his family, and a benefit to 
 Art. How very superior many of these works are to 
 those we every day see, even by better musicians, and 
 how there shines forth, in every part, a striving after 
 progress, and the promise (<f a genuine vocation, along 
 with the most perfect development I And all this was 
 not to be ! and everything in Art and in life remains so 
 inscrutable ? And thus we lament him, who only know 
 a few compositions of this young artist ; so how could 
 suitable words of comfort be found for you, his father ? 
 
 But I must thank you for having made me acquainted 
 
FIRST PERFORMANCE OF “ELIJAH. 
 
 363 
 
 with those works, and for having written me those 
 few lines ; and I will waft my thanks after your son 
 also, for having destined these works for me. May 
 Heaven grant you consolation, and alleviate your grief, 
 and one day permit you to rejoin your son, where it is 
 \o be hoped there is still music, but no more sorrow or 
 partings. — Yours, 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Birmingham, August 26th, 1846. 
 
 My dear Brother, 
 
 From the very first you took so kind an interest in 
 my “ Elijah,” and thus inspired me with so much energy 
 and courage for its completion, that I must write to 
 tell you of its first performance yesterday. Ho work 
 of mine ever went so admirably the first time of execu- 
 tion, or was received with such enthusiasm, by both 
 the musicians and the audience, as this oratorio. It 
 was quite evident at the first rehearsal in London, that 
 they liked it, and liked to sing and to play it ; but I 
 own I was far from anticipating that it would acquire 
 such fresh vigour and impetus at the performance. Had 
 you only been there ! During the whole two hours 
 and a half that it lasted, the large hall, with its two 
 thousand people, and the large orchestra, were all so 
 fully intent on the one object in question, that not the 
 slightest sound was to be heard among the whole 
 audience, so that I could sway at pleasure the enor- 
 mous orchestra and choir, and also the organ accompa- 
 
364 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 niments. How often I thought of you during the 
 time I More especially, however, when the “ sound 
 of abundance of rain” came, and when they sang and 
 played the final chorus with furore^ and when, after 
 the close of the first part, we were obliged to repeat 
 the whole movement. Not less than four chorused 
 and four airs were encored, and not one single mistake 
 occurred in the whole of the first part; there were 
 some afterwards in the second part, but even these 
 were but trifling. A young English tenor sang the 
 last air with such wonderful sweetness, that I was 
 obliged to collect all my energies not to be affected, and 
 to continue beating time steadily. As I said before, 
 had you only been there I But to-morrow I set off on 
 my journey home. We can no longer say, as Groethe 
 did, that the horses’ heads are turned homewards, but 
 I always have the s^me feeling on the first day of my 
 journey home. I hope to see you in Berlin in October, 
 when I shall bring my score with me, either to have it 
 performed, or at all events to play it over to you, and 
 Fanny, and Kebecca, but I think probably the former 
 (or rather both). Farewell, my dear Brother; if this 
 be dull, pray forgive it. I have been repeatedly inter 
 rupted, and in fact it should only contain that I thank 
 you for having taken such part in my “Elijah,” and 
 having assisted me with it. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 After the first performance of the “ Elijah ” in Lon- 
 don, Prince Albert wrote the following in the book of 
 words which he used on that occasion, and sent it to 
 Mendelssohn as a token of remembrance : — “ To the 
 
SUCCESS OF “ELIJAH. 
 
 365 
 
 noble artist who, though encompassed by the Baal- 
 worship of false art, by his genius and study has suc- 
 ceeded, like another Elijah, in faithfully preserving the 
 worship of true art; once more habituating the ear, 
 amid the giddy whirl of empty, frivolous sound, to the 
 pure tones of sympathetic feeling and legitimate har- 
 mony ; — to the great master who, by the tranquil cur- 
 rent of his thoughts, reveals to us the gentle whisper- 
 ings, as well as the mighty strife of the elements, — to 
 him is this -written in grateful remembrance, by 
 
 “ Albert. 
 
 “ Buckingham Palace^ 
 
 To Frau Doctorin Freue, Leipzig. 
 
 London, August Blst, 1846. 
 
 Dear Lady, 
 
 You have always shown such kind sympathy in my 
 “ Elijah,” that I may well consider it incumbent on mo 
 to write to you after its performance, and to give you 
 a report on the subject. If this should weary you, you 
 have only yourself to blame ; for why did you allow me 
 to come to you with the score under my arm, and play to 
 you those parts that were half completed, and why did 
 you sing so much of it for me at sight? Indeed, on 
 this account you in turn should have considered it in- 
 cumbent on you to go with me to Birmingham ; for it 
 is not fair to make people’s mouths water, and to dis- 
 gust them with their condition, when you cannot 
 remedy it for them ; and really the state in which I 
 31 * 
 
366 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 found the soprano solo parts here was most truly misera- 
 ble and forlorn. 
 
 There was, however, so much that was good to make 
 up for this, that I shall bring back with me a very de- 
 lightful impression of the whole ; and I often thought 
 what pleasure it would have caused you. 
 
 The rich, full sounds of the orchestra and the huge 
 organ, combined with the powerful choruses who sang 
 with honest enthusiasm, the wonderful resonance in the 
 grand giant hall, an admirable English tenor singer; 
 Staudigl, too, who took all possible pains, and whose 
 talents and powers you already well know, and in addi- 
 tion a couple of excellent second soprano and contralto 
 solo singers ; all executing the music with peculiar 
 spirit, and the utmost fire and sympathy, doing justice 
 not only to the loudest passages, but also to the softest 
 pianos^ in a manner which I never before heard from 
 such masses, and, in addition, an impressionable, kindly, 
 hushed, and enthusiastic audience, — all this is indeed 
 sufficient good fortune for a first performance. In fact, 
 I never in my life heard a better, or I may say so good 
 a one, and I almost doubt whether I shall ever again 
 hear one equal to it, because there were so many 
 favourable combinations on this occasion. Along, 
 however, with so much light, as I before said, there 
 were also shadows, and the worst was the soprano 
 part. It was all so neat, so pretty, so elegant, so slo- 
 venly, so devoid both of soul and head, that the music 
 acquired a kind of amiable expression, which even now 
 almost drives me mad when I think of it. The voice 
 of the contralto, too, was not powerful enough to fill 
 the hall, or to make itself heard beside such masses, and 
 
BIRMINGHAM MUSICAL FESTIVAL. 367 
 
 sucli solo singers; but she sang exceedingly well and 
 musically, and in that case the want of voice can be 
 tolerated. At least to me, nothing is so repugnant in 
 music as a certain cold, soulless coquetry, which is in 
 itself so unmusical, and yet so often adopted as the 
 basis of singing, and playing, and music of all kinds. It 
 is singular that I find this to be the case much less 
 even with Itahans than with us Grermans. It seems to 
 me that our countrymen must either love music in all 
 sincerity, or they display an odious, stupid, and affected 
 coldness, while an Italian throat sings just as it comes, 
 in a straightforward way, though perhaps for the sake 
 of money, — but still not for the sake of money, and 
 esthetics, and criticism, and self-esteem, and the right 
 school, and twenty-seven thousand other reasons, none 
 of which really harmonize with their real nature. This 
 struck me very forcibly at the Musical Festival. Mos- 
 cheles was ill on the Monday, so I conducted the re- 
 hearsals for him.* Towards ten o’clock at night, when 
 I was tired enough, the Italians lounged quietly in, 
 with their usual cool nonchalance. But from the very 
 first moment that Grisi, Mario, and Lablache began to 
 sing, I inwardly thanked God. They themselves know 
 exactly what they intend, sing with purity and in time, 
 and there is no mistaking where the first crotchet 
 should come in. That I feel so little sympathy for 
 their music is no fault of theirs. But this digression is 
 out of place here. I wished to tell you about the Bir- 
 mingham Musical Festival, and the Town Hall, and 
 here I am abusing the musical execution of our country- 
 
 * Mos^heles recovered sufficiently to direct the rest of the perform 
 ances at the festival, excejjt “ Elijah.” 
 
368 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 men. You will say, I have often enough, and too 
 often, been obliged to listen to you on that subject 
 already. So I prefer reserving all further description 
 of the festival till I can relate it to you in your own 
 room. 
 
 % 
 
 May I soon meet you in health and happiness, and 
 find you unchanged in kindly feelings towards myself. 
 — Your devoted 
 
 ¥elix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Leipzig, October 31st, 1846. 
 
 My dear Brother, 
 
 From my only being able to-day to wish you joy of 
 yesterday, that is, in writing and by words, you will at 
 once see that I have even more than my full share of 
 affairs at this moment. What I wish most to do, j 
 cannot accomplish all day long, and what I most par- 
 ticularly dislike often occupies my whole day, — but no 
 more Jeremiades^ and now for true heartfelt good 
 wishes. A thousand good wishes, which may all be 
 summed up in one, — health for you and yours, and all 
 those you love ; in this wish lies the continuance of 
 your happiness, in this lies your enjoyment of it, in this 
 lies all that is good, all that I can possibly desire for 
 you, and no human being could possibly wish or desire 
 anything better for any man. Were you very happy 
 on the day ? were all your family well ? (this, however, 
 is included in my previous question ;) had you a cake 
 
PLANS FOR THE FUTURE. 
 
 369 
 
 decorated with lights? This is certainly an entirely 
 novel question, but not absolutely indispensable to the 
 happiness of life (like the last). Did you drink choco- 
 late ? were my sisters with you, or you with them, at 
 dinner or supper? did you think of us? May Grod 
 bless you, my dear Brother, on that day, and on every 
 day of your life I 
 
 It is shameful in me, not to have thanked you yet for 
 the beautiful copy of Dahlmann, but it is still more 
 shameful that such ordinary — not extraordinary — but 
 honest, able, true words, are so seldom to be met with 
 in our Fatherland ; and the cause of this is, that medio- 
 crity, or, what is still worse, vapid superficiality, is so 
 prevalent in G-ermany, parading itself till we would 
 fain drive out of sight; and this is also why I have 
 been hitherto prevented from even thanking you. I 
 never yet encountered such an accumulation of stran- 
 gers, of inquiries and proposals, and almost all entirely 
 worthless ; many so modest — and many so immodest I 
 Singers, players, a fine heap of compositions, and 
 scarcely one that can be called even tolerably good, but 
 at the same time overflowing with the longest words, 
 full of patriotic ardour, full of — anything but striving 
 after higher aims, though laying claim to the highest 
 of all ; and then the impossibility of fulfilling even one 
 of these demands with a good conscience, or recom- 
 mending them to others. But why should I tell you 
 all this ? you, no doubt, know it by experience in your 
 own department, for it pervades every department. 
 All this, however, confirms me in my resolution not to 
 continue in this public official situation more than a 
 few years ; and just as it formerly was my duty to fill 
 
370 
 
 Mendelssohn's letters. 
 
 such an office to tlie best of my ability, it is now equally 
 my duty to give it up. Everything here is gradually 
 assuming a pleasant aspect. Moscheles has set to work 
 very vigorously with the Conservatorium ; the con- 
 certs also pursue their steady course now as ever; 
 when all this is secure and certain, I daily meditate on 
 the possibility of being able to pass the summer in some 
 pretty country (somewhere near the Rhine), and the 
 winter in Berlin, and this I hope to be able to do, with- 
 out any public duties to perform in Berlin, and without 
 all that has now irrevocably passed away there; I 
 intend to live entirely with you in all happiness, and to 
 write music. Ainsi soit-il, 
 
 I should have been glad to bring the Elijah ” with 
 me, but I am still at work on two passages, which I am 
 striving to remodel, and they cause me great tribula- 
 tion. In the mean time, I have been obliged to com- 
 pose afresh the whole Liturgy for the King. He has 
 desired that I should be repeatedly written to on the 
 subject, and now at last it is finished. I am often, too, 
 in no happy mood, for poor Johann* is very seriously 
 ill, and causes us really very great anxiety. “ May I 
 be so bold as to ask who is to play the part of the ser- 
 vant?” says Groethe, and lately these words often 
 recurred to me. May Grod soon restore the poor faith- 
 ful fellow I Love me as ever, and may you be happy 
 in the approaching year. — ^Your 
 
 Felix, 
 
 Mendelssohn’s BervAnt. 
 
REVISION OF “ELIJAH.’ 
 
 371 
 
 To Professor Edward Bendemann. 
 
 Leipzig, November 8th, 1846. 
 
 . . . Have I already thanked you for your excellent 
 contributions, and advice about “Elijah”? All your 
 notes on the margin are most acceptable, and are a 
 fresh proof that you have not only a different but a 
 much deeper insight than almost any one else into a 
 subject of this kind. You recommend that the “ Sanc- 
 tus” should be followed by the command of God to 
 Elijah to resume his mission; such was indeed my 
 original intention, and I think of replacing it, but I 
 cannot dispense with an answer from Elijah ; and I 
 think hoth can and ought to be there. I shall not, 
 however, be able to bring in King Ahab again. The 
 greatest difficulty in the whole undertaking, was after 
 the manifestation of the Lord in the “ still small voice,” 
 to discover a conclusion for the whole, with sufficient 
 breadth (and yet not long); and if Elijah were to be 
 afterwards introduced again in person as a zealous and 
 avenging prophet (in a dramatic aspect) it would in my 
 opinion be difficult to represent, without great circum- 
 locution, his significance for the new dispensation 
 (which, however, must necessarily be alluded to), while 
 I think it most important, that from the moment of the 
 appearance of the Lord, all should go on in grand narra- 
 tive to the close. But when you say that one of these 
 passages should relate how he came ‘down, and again 
 came down in vain, you are quite right, and I will try 
 to accomplish it, as I am at this moment revising the 
 whole, and re-writing several passages before sending 
 
V 372 
 
 Mendelssohn's letters. 
 
 it to the engraver. It is singular that tne passage 
 which caused me the greatest trouble is the very one 
 that you would hke to see omitted, — that of the widow. 
 To me it seems that by introducing some phrases 
 (either by the chorus or otherwise) the part might 
 become more significant and comprehensive, whereas 
 you prefer its being a simple narrative. After all, you 
 are possibly right, which would be unfortunate, for I 
 believe that in the distribution of the whole, the pas- 
 sage in its present expansion could not possibly be 
 spared. This is a point, therefore, which I shall weigh 
 well. 
 
 To Carl Klingemann, London. 
 
 Leipzig, December 6th, 1846. 
 
 . . . Montaigne says, and so does Yult, that a man 
 can have but one friend ; you will find this too in the 
 “ Flegeljahre.” I also said this from my heart when I 
 received your letter, my one friend I 
 
 How gladly would I have burst forth into joy and 
 gratitude at the news it contained, and have rephed in 
 a gay and happy spirit ! but this was impossible, as at 
 the time your letter arrived, we were in great anxiety 
 about our servant J ohann, who had been confined to 
 bed for the last two months, with a species of dropsy, 
 becoming daily worse, and when, about a fortnight 
 since, the improvement took place that we had been so 
 anxiously longing for during three weeks, his vital 
 powers suddenly sank, and to our great sorrow he died. 
 
WILL OF HIS SERVANT JOHANN. 373 
 
 You know that I valued him very highly, and can well 
 understand that during the whole time when I saw 
 him suffer so much, and become worse and worse, and 
 then the momentary hope that ensued, followed by his 
 sudden and inevitable death, must cause me to be in a 
 very grave mood for long, long to come. His mother 
 and sister did not arrive here till the day after his 
 funeral. It distressed us also very much, not to be able 
 to say one consolatory word to them I Among his 
 things, which were all in the most exemplary order, 
 we found a letter to me containing his last will; I 
 must show you this the next time we meet, — no man, 
 no poet indeed, could have writt^ anything more 
 heartfelt, earnest, and touching ; then there was a 
 great deal to do and to regulate, until all the trunks, 
 with his clothes, etc., were sent off to his mother, and 
 his brothers and sisters ; and this was why I have been 
 unable to write to you during the last few weeks. I 
 relate all this to you in detail, because you are my one 
 friend, and because you sympathize in all that really 
 affects and concerns me. Happily, I was able to work 
 the whole time (though, indeed, not to compose). I 
 got the parts of Bach’s B minor Mass from Dresden. 
 (Do you remember it on Zelter’s Fridays ?) It is 
 chiefly in his own writing, and dedicated to the Elector 
 of that day. To his Koyal Highness the most noble 
 the Elector of Saxony, the accompanying Mass is dedi- 
 cated, with the most respectful devotion of the author, 
 J. S. Bach.” This is inscribed on the title-page.) From 
 it I have gradually corrected all the mistakes in my 
 score, which were innumerable, and which I had fre- 
 quently remarked, but never had a proper opportunity 
 32 
 
374 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 to rectify. This occupation, mechanical, though now 
 and then interesting enough, was most welcome to me. 
 For the last few days, however, I have again begun to 
 work with all my might at my “ Elijah,” and hope to 
 amend the greatest part of what I thought deficient in 
 the first performance. I have quite completed one of the 
 most difiSicult parts (the widow), and you will certainly 
 be pleased with the alterations, — I may well say, with 
 the improvements. “ Elijah ” is become far more im- 
 pressive and mysterious in this part, the want of which 
 was what annoyed me. Unluckily I never find out 
 this kind of thing till jpost festurrij and till I have im- 
 proved it. I hop«, too, to hit on the true sense of 
 other passages that we have discussed together, and 
 shall seriously revise all that I did not deem satisfac- 
 tory ; so that I hope to see the whole completely 
 finished within a few weeks, and then be able to begin 
 something new. The parts that I have hitherto remo- 
 delled prove to me that I am right, not to rest till such 
 a work is as good as I can make it, although in these 
 matters very few people either remark or wish to hear 
 about them, and yet they cost a very, very great deal 
 of time ; but, on the other hand, such passages make a 
 very different impression when they are really made 
 better, both in themselves, and with regard to all other 
 portions, — you see I am still so very much pleased with 
 the part of the widow, that I completed to-day, — so I 
 think it will not do to rest satisfied with them just as 
 they are. Conscience, too, has a word to say on this 
 matter. 
 
LARGE AND SMAI-L TOWNS. 
 
 375 
 
 To HIS Brother-in-Law, Professor Dtriohlet, 
 Berlin. 
 
 Leipzig, January 4th, 1847. 
 
 Dear Dirichlet, 
 
 I write you these lines to say that I wish for my 
 sake, I might say for your sake also, that you should 
 remain at Berlin.* Jesting apart, I would gladly repeat 
 in writing, and at this new year’s time, all that I said 
 to you about it personally. The more I reflect on this 
 plan here (not in Berlin), the more I feel convinced that 
 its execution would grieve me, first, for your own sake, 
 and secondly, for mine (which comes to one and the 
 same thing) ; for when I look repeatedly around here, 
 and thus try to discover what kind of weather there is 
 in Germany (and you know that it is often long, long 
 before this can be perceived in Berlin), I everywhere 
 see the current setting in towards large cities, but 
 receding from the smaller ones. It might be said, then, 
 a residence in small towns will now become really 
 agreeable ; but they, too, will not be content to remain 
 in their state of quiet comfort, but strive to become 
 great cities : and this is why I could not see any one, 
 far less yourself, leave a large city at this moment to 
 settle in a small one, without the most extreme con- 
 cern. There are a thousand wants, both material and 
 spiritual, which these smaller places are at this moment 
 seeking to supply (thus making these wants only more 
 perceptible), a thousand pleasant things in life and 
 knowledge, — all linked for many long years with your- 
 
 Dirichlet was engaged in a negotiation about a situation at Heidel 
 
376 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 self and with Rebecca’s early days, — which you value 
 less than they deserve, because you have always been 
 accustomed to have things in one fashion and in no 
 other, and because you are uneasy about the present, 
 and dissatisfied with what is going on. But, in truth, 
 you will find the same uneasiness, and the same dis- 
 satisfaction, prevailing everywhere through all Ger- 
 many ; at present, indeed, only in those whom you 
 meet, and not in yourself, the new-comer ; but, alas 1 
 alas I in these days such contamination spreads hourly 
 in our Fatherland, where these evils daily strike deeper 
 root, and you will and must experience them also, 
 wherever you go, and not in any respect improve your 
 condition in this chief point. By your change of resi- 
 dence, you cannot efiect any cure in the prevailing ma- 
 lady, and I as little with my subscription concerts ; it 
 can only be done by very different means, or by a very 
 sharp crisis ; and, in any event, it would then be best 
 not to be placed in new, but in old familiar circum- 
 stances. A third thing may happen, and, alas I not 
 the most improbable ; all may remain in its old form. 
 In that case also, however, it is best not to begin a new 
 life, which holds out no prospect of any improvement 
 in itself. I do wish, then, that you would remain in 
 Berlin. 
 
 That you, by any kind of promise, however well 
 meant or positive, are now in the hands of the people 
 of Heidelberg, and must say Yes, if they say Yes also, I 
 cannot believe. Such a connection as yours with Ber- 
 hn is not to be dissolved by a letter and a few words ; 
 and if these people believe that by your answer they 
 have acquired any right over you, it is not to be denied 
 
PLANS FOR THE FUTURE. 
 
 377 
 
 that the others have at least an equal right. Simply 
 from an overweening sense of justice, and from too 
 much dehcacy, a person often chooses that which costs 
 him the greatest sacrifice, and thus, I believe, you 
 would at last rather choose Heidelberg ; but they will 
 not be sensible of this ; they only wish to conclude a 
 bargain, and you must do the same, and no more. In 
 the mean wliile they have the proe^ because they wish 
 to acquire something new for themselves, and the peo- 
 ple of Berlin only to keep what they have, and the 
 former is always more tempting and pleasant ; but, as 
 I said before, it is a mere matter of business, — do not 
 forget that ; and you know quite as well as I do that 
 all the Berliners are anxious to keep you. Forgive my 
 strange lecture, but remain. 
 
 I ask it for my sake also ; for I have now, I may say, 
 decided soon to go for the winter to Berfin. Don’t let 
 us play at the game of change sides.” I preferred a 
 residence in a smaller town, under very favourable cir- 
 cumstances ; I always liked it, and am accustomed to 
 no other, and yet I feel compelled to leave it, to rejoin 
 those with whom I enjoyed my childhood and youth, 
 and whose memories and friendships and experiences 
 are the same as my own. My plan is, that we should 
 form all together one pleasant united household, such as 
 we have not seen for long, and live happily together 
 (independent of political life or non-life^ which has 
 swallowed up all else). For some time past everything 
 seems to contribute to this, and, as I said, I shall not 
 be found wanting, for I consider it the greatest possible 
 good fortune that could ever befall me ; so do not frus- 
 trate all this by one blow, but remain in Berlin, and 
 32 * 
 
378 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 let us be together there. These are my reasons, badly 
 expressed, but better intended than expressed; and 
 don’t take this amiss. — Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Frau Geheimerathin Steffens,* nee Reichardt. 
 Berlin. 
 
 LeipziKt February, 1847. 
 
 Dear Madam, 
 
 When I meet any one who knew my Father, and 
 who loved and esteemed him as he deserved, I imme- 
 diately look on such a one as a friend, and not as a 
 stranger, and a meeting of this kind always makes me 
 glad and happy. As you no doubt feel the same, I 
 trust you will excuse the liberty I take in addressing 
 you. I wish to relate to you how touched and delighted 
 the friends of music in Leipzig were yesterday by the 
 composition of your father; we felt as if his spirit were 
 still living and working among us, and indeed it is so. 
 In the concert of yesterday (which, like the previous 
 and both the ensuing ones, was dedicated to a kind of 
 historical succession of the great masters) there was an 
 opportunity of bringing before the public some of your 
 father’s songs. A symphony of Haydn’s was followed 
 by the Reichardt song, “ Dem Schnee, dem Regen,” 
 and his duett, “ Ein Yeilchen auf der Wiese stand;” 
 
 * Daughter of the distinguished composer Reichardt, and widow of 
 Prof. Heinrich Steffens, whose delightful autobiography has been trans- 
 lated by Rev. W. L. Gage, and published in Boston (Gould & Lmcoin,' 
 under the title of “ The Story of my Cai’eer.” 
 
reichardt’s songs. 
 
 379 
 
 and then the same poem set to music by Mozart. You 
 will perceive that your father’s music was by no means 
 in a very easy proximity, but I wish you could have 
 heard how he maintained his honourable position. The 
 very first song sounded charming and effective; but 
 when the little duett was given by two very fresh 
 pure voices, in great simplicity and perfection, many a 
 lover of music could not suppress his tears, so charming 
 and genial was that music, so genuine and touching. 
 Such applause as we seldom hear, and a da capo of aU 
 three verses, followed as a matter of course. This was 
 not for a moment doubtful after the three first bars had 
 been sung, and I felt as if I could not only listen to the 
 song twice, but during the whole evening, and to 
 nothing else. It was the true genuine German song, 
 such as no other nation has, but even ours nothing bet- 
 ter ; perhaps grander, certainly more complicated, more 
 elaborate, and more artificial, but not on that account 
 more artistic, — thus, not better. This must happily be 
 the case for aU time, and it must cause you much joy 
 thus once more to meet your father’s spirit in its still 
 living influence ; for many a young musician who 
 heard his music yesterday (if, indeed, he can feel such 
 things at aU) will now know better what a song should 
 be, than from all the books of instruction, all the lec- 
 tures, and all the examples of the present day ; “ and 
 thus is fife won,” as Goethe says. Forgive me for 
 writing nothing in this letter, except that the Eeichardt 
 songs were so lovely, and the Leipzig public so en- 
 chanted. The first you have long known, though the 
 second in itself may be a matter of indifference ; but as 
 T was seated at the piano accompanying yesterday and 
 
380 
 
 MENDELSSOHN S LETTERS. 
 
 feeling such delight, I said to myself that I must write 
 to you about it. 
 
 Begging you to recall me to the remembrance of 
 your daughter, I am your 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy.* 
 
 To HIS Nephew, Sebastian Hensel. 
 
 Leipzig, February 22d, 1847. 
 
 Dear Sebastian, 
 
 I thank you very much for the drawing, which, as 
 your own composition, pleases me extremely, especially 
 the technical part, in which you have made great pro- 
 gress. If, however, you intend to adopt painting as a 
 profession, you cannot too soon accustom yourself to 
 study the meaning of a work of art with more earnest- 
 ness and zeal than its mere form ^ — that is, in other 
 words (as a painter is so fortunate as to be able to 
 select visible nature herself for his substance), to con- 
 template and to study nature most lovingly, most 
 closely, most innately and inwardly, all your life long. 
 Study very thoroughly how the outer form and the 
 inward formation of a tree, or a mountain, or a house 
 always must look, and how it can be made to look, if it 
 is to be beautiful, and then produce it with sepia or 
 oils, or on a smoked plate ; it will always be of use, if 
 only as a testimony of your love of substance. You 
 will not take amiss this httle sermon from such a 
 screech-owl as I often am, and, above all, do not forget 
 
 See letter about Reichardt, of December 28, 1833. 
 
DEATH OF HIS SISTER. 
 
 381 
 
 the substance ; as for the form (my lecture), the devil 
 may fly avray with it, it is of very little value. 
 
 Tell your mother that I quite agree with her about 
 the scherzo. Perhaps she may one day compose a 
 scherzo serioso ; there may be such a thing. — Your 
 Uncle, 
 
 Felix M. B. 
 
 To General von Webe'rn, Berlin.* 
 
 Frankfort, May 24th, 1847. 
 
 Your letter did me good, even in the depths of my 
 sorrow, when I received it ; above all, your hand-writ- 
 ing, and your sympathy, and every single word of 
 yours. I thank you for it all, my dear, kind, faithful 
 friend. It is indeed true that no one who ever knew 
 my sister can ever forget her through life ; but what 
 have not we, her brothers and sister, lost ! and I more 
 especially, to whom she was every moment present in 
 her goodness and love ; her sympathy being my first 
 thought in every joy; whom she ever so spoiled, and 
 made so proud, by all the riches of her sisterly love, 
 which made me feel all was sure to go well, for she was 
 ever ready to take a full and loving share in all that 
 concerned me. All this I believe we cannot yet esti- 
 mate, just as I still instinctively believe that the mourn- 
 ful intelligence will be suddenly recalled, and then again 
 I feel that it is true, — but never, never can I inure my- 
 self to it I It is consolatory to think of such a beauti- 
 ful, harmonious nature, and that she has been spared 
 
 * After Fanny Hcnsel’s death. 
 
382 
 
 MENDf:LSSOHN’s LETTERS. 
 
 all the infirmities of advanced age and declining life; 
 but it is hard for us to bear such a blow with proper 
 submission and fortitude. 
 
 Forgive me for not being able to say or write much, 
 but I wished to thank you. 
 
 My family are all well ; the happy, unconcerned, 
 cheerful faces of my children alone have done me good 
 in these days of sorrow. I have not as yet been able 
 to think of music; when I try to do so, all seems 
 empty and desolate within me. But when the children 
 come in I feel less sad, and I can look at them and lis- 
 ten to them for hours. 
 
 Thanks for your letter ; may Heaven grant health to 
 you, and preserve all those you love. — Your 
 
 Felix M. B. 
 
 To HIS Hephew, Sebastian Hensel. 
 
 Baden-Baden, June 13th, 1847. 
 
 Dear Sebastian, 
 
 I must send you my good wishes on your birthday, 
 the most mournful one you have yet known. The 
 retrospect of its celebration last year will deeply grieve 
 you, for then your mother was still by your side ; may, 
 however, the anticipation of the future birthdays which 
 you may yet be spared to see, comfort and strengthen 
 you I for your mother will stand by your side in these 
 also, as well as in everything that you do or fulfil. 
 May all you do be estimable and upright, and may 
 your daily steps be directed towards that path to which 
 
ADTICE TO niS NEPHEW. 
 
 383 
 
 your motlier’s eyes were turned for you, and in which 
 her example and her being went with you, and always 
 will go with you so long as you remain true to her, — in 
 other words, I trust, all your life long. Whatever 
 branch of life, or knowledge, or work you may devote 
 yourself to, it is indispensable to will (not to wish, but 
 to will) something good and solid ; but this is sufficient. 
 In all employments and in all spheres there is now and 
 always will be a want of able honest workmen, and 
 therefore it is not true when people declare it now more 
 difficult than formerly to achieve anything. On the 
 contrary, in a certain sense, it is and always will be 
 easy^ or altogether impossible ; a genuine, faithful heart, 
 true love, and a brave, determined will, are alone 
 required for this, and you will not assuredly fail in 
 these, with such a bright and beloved example steadily 
 shining before you. And even if you foUow this, and 
 do all, aU in your power, still nothing is done, nothing 
 is attained, without the fulfilment of one fervent wish, 
 — may God be with you I 
 
 This prayer comprises consolation and strength, and 
 also cheerfulness in days to come. I often long to be 
 able to pass those days with you and your aunt Eebec- 
 ca. We expect your father ten or twelve days hence ; 
 I wish you could come with him, and we might sketch 
 from nature together. I lately composed a sketch of an 
 old mountain castle in a forest, with a distant view of 
 a plain ; another of a terrace, with an old lime-tree and 
 an image of the Virgin under it ; and a third, of a soli- 
 tary mountain lake between high hills, with reeds in 
 the foreground. I mean to wash them in with Indian 
 ink. Are you inclined to try the same three subjects, 
 
384 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 that we may compare our compositions ? Do so, I beg, 
 dear Sebastian, and show them to me when we meet 
 again, — soon, very soon, I hope. May God bless you. 
 — Ever your 
 
 Felix M. B. 
 
 To Kebecca Dirichlet, Berlin. 
 
 Thun, July 7th, 1847. 
 
 Dear Sister, 
 
 In your letter of yesterday to Paul,* you said you 
 wished I would write to you again ; I therefore do so 
 to-day, but what to write I cannot tell. You have 
 often laughed at me and rallied me because my letters 
 assumed the tone around me or within me, and such is 
 the case now, for it is as impossible for me to write a 
 consistent letter as to recover a consistent frame of 
 mind. I hope that as the days pass on they will bring 
 with them more fortitude, and so I let them pursue 
 their course, and in the society of Paul, and in this 
 lovely country, they glide on monotonously and rapidly. 
 
 We are all well in health, and sometimes even cheer- 
 ful. But if I return within myself, which I am always 
 inclined to do, or when we are talking together, the 
 ground-tint is no longer there, — not even a black one, 
 far less one of a brighter hue. 
 
 A great chapter is now ended, and neither the title 
 nor even the first word of the next is yet written. But 
 
 * Mendelssohn and his brother, with their families, went together ta 
 Switzerland after Fanny HensePs death. 
 
STORMY WEATHER, 
 
 385 
 
 God will make it all right one day ; this suits the be- 
 ginning and the end of all chapters. 
 
 We intend going to Interlachen in a few days, and 
 towards the end of the month Paul will have begun his 
 journey thence towards home. He enjoys with me the 
 old familiar mountain-summits, which look as hoary as 
 five or twenty-five years ago, and on which Time 
 makes little impression! We shall probably stay in 
 Interlachen for another month, and establish ourselves 
 there; I will, and must, soon attempt once more to 
 begin some regular work, and should like to have made 
 some progress in a composition before my journey 
 home. I hope to find you and yours in good health in 
 September.* May we soon meet again, my dear, good 
 Sister 1 and do not forget your 
 
 Felix M. B. 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Interlachen, July 19th, 1S47. 
 
 My dear Brother, 
 
 Scarcely were you gone, when a storm arose, and 
 the thunder and rain were tremendous. Then we 
 dined, and found an unfilled place at table. Then I re- 
 flected for two hours on Schiller’s chorus in the Bride 
 of Messina,” Say what are we now to do I” and then 
 the children brought the two enclosed letters for you, 
 and said, “ I wonder where our Uncle is now I ” 
 
 But it is no longer any use telling you such common- 
 place, indifferent things, and yet life is made up chiefly 
 33 
 
386 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 of these. So adieu, till we meet again on the plains oi 
 on the mountains. We shall be as happy there as we 
 were here. 
 
 It is still thundering, and this is the most dreary day 
 we have had here for many weeks — in every sense ! — 
 Your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To Rebecca Dirichlet. 
 
 Interlachen, July 20th, 1847, 
 
 Dear Sister, 
 
 When your dear letter arrived, I was writing music ; 
 I force myself now to be very busy, in the hope that 
 hereafter I may become so from inclination, and that I 
 shall take pleasure in it. This is “ weather expressly 
 calculated for writing, but not for gipsy ing.” Since 
 Paul left us, the sky has been so dismal and rainy that 
 I have only been able to take one walk. Since the day 
 before yesterday, it has been quite cold besides, so we 
 have a fire in-doors, and, out-of-doors, streaming rain. 
 But I cannot deny that I sometimes rather like such 
 downright, pouring wet days, which confine you effec- 
 tually to the house. This time they give me an oppor- 
 tunity of passing the whole day with my three elder 
 children ; they write, and learn arithmetic and Latin 
 with me, — paint landscapes during their play-hours, or 
 play draughts, and ask a thousand wise questions, 
 which no fool can answer (people generally say the re- 
 verse of this, still it is so). The standing reply is, and 
 always will be, You do not yet understand such 
 
ANTI€IPATIONS. 
 
 387 
 
 things,” which still vibrates in my ears from my own 
 mother, and which I shall soon hear in turn from my 
 children, when they give their children the same an- 
 swer ; and thus it goes on. 
 
 As for Sebastian’s profession, I think he is now at 
 the age, and period, when he is not likely to feel con- 
 viction or enthusiasm for anything that cannot be laid 
 hold of by the hand, or counted by numbers, or ex- 
 pressed by words, and he must be kept from every- 
 thing — as a hfe aim — which might forestal such convic- 
 tions. He knows that as well as I do, and I have 
 entire confidence in his not choosing any profession 
 from which he wiU hereafter turn aside, or which might 
 eventually become indifferent or wearisome to him. 
 As soon, therefore, as I feel secure on this pointy it is 
 quite the same to me, what he may choose in this wide 
 world, or how high or how humble his path may then 
 be, if he only pursues it cheerfully ! And as all agree 
 in allowing him to make his own choice, and as he can 
 now or never understand the serious aspect of hfe, and 
 as this earnest feeling is the affair of his own heart, in 
 which no one can assist him, or advise him, although it 
 does affect each of us deeply, I believe he will not be 
 found wanting in this respect, and will do well, what 
 he settles to do ; that would be my suggestion to him, 
 but, otherwise, not to offer him the sHghtest approach 
 to advice. It is the old story of Hercules choosing his 
 path, which for several thousand years has always been 
 acted once, at least in the hfe of every man ; and 
 whether the young maidens be called Virtue or Vice, 
 and the young men Hercules or not, the sense remairas 
 the same. 
 
388 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 In September, God willing, I intend to come to Ber- 
 lin, and Paul has probably told you how seriously I am 
 occupied with the thought of spending my hfe with 
 you, my dear Sister and Brother, and residing with you, 
 renouncing all other considerations. I wish to live 
 with you, and never did I feel this more vividly than 
 when the steamboat set off to Thun with Paul and his 
 family, and Hensel ; and, strangely enough (either for 
 this reason, or in spite of it), it is almost impossible for 
 me at this time to be with strangers. There is no lack 
 of visitors here, both musical and others; scarcely a 
 single day lately has passed without one, or several; 
 but they all seem to me so empty and indifferent, that 
 I, no doubt, must appear in the same hght to them, so I 
 heartily wish that we may soon part, and remain apart ; 
 and in the midst of all the phrases, and inquiries, and 
 speechifying, one thought is always present with me, — 
 the shortness of life ; and, in fact, I hope we shall soon 
 be together, and long remain together. Farewell, dear 
 Sister, till we meet I 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Interlachen, August 3d, 1847. 
 
 Dear Brother, 
 
 We are all well, and continue to live the same quiet 
 life that you enjoyed with us here. It was, indeed, 
 most solitary the first days after you left us, when each 
 of us went about with dismal faces, as if we had for- 
 gotten something, or were looking for something, — and 
 
RETURNING CHEERFULNESS. 
 
 389 
 
 it was so, indeed I Since tlien, I have begun to write 
 music very busily ; the three elder children work with 
 me in the forenoon ,* in the afternoon, when the 
 weather permits, we all take a walk together ; and I 
 have also finished a few rabid sketches in Indian ink. 
 Herr Kohl came here yesterday, the Irish and Kussian 
 traveller, and spent the evening with us; also, Mr. 
 Grote,* whom I always am very glad to see and to listen 
 to ; but I now feel so tranquil in this quiet retirement, 
 and so little tranquil with a number of people, that I 
 do all I can to avoid what is called society, and as yet I 
 have succeeded in this. Why were you not with me in 
 Eoningen ? you would indeed have been pleased ! and 
 in Wilderschwyl, and Hnspunnen besides ? This alone 
 would be a sufficient reason for your returning here as 
 soon as you can. We have not, however, once had fine 
 weather since the day of your departure, and often very 
 bad; there has been no further question, since then, 
 of sitting under the walnut-trees, and many days we 
 were unable to leave the house. Still we always took 
 advantage of the hours that were fair for all kinds of 
 expeditions ; and wherever you turn your steps here, 
 it is always splendid. If the weather becomes more 
 settled, I mean to go over the Susten, and to the sum- 
 mit of the Sidelhorn, which can be done from here in a 
 few days. But to carry this resolution into effect 
 seems by no means easy.; it is so lovely here, and we 
 so much enjoy our regular, quiet fife. It has enabled 
 me once more to become often quite cheerful; but 
 when people come, and talk at random about common- 
 place matters, and of God and the world, my mood be- 
 
 * The author of the “ History of Greece.” 
 
 33 * 
 
390 
 
 Mendelssohn’s letters. 
 
 comes again so unutterably mournful that I do not 
 know how to endure it. You are obliged to surmount 
 such feehngs, to the utmost extent ; and I think of this 
 every day. It must be hard on you, and I shrink from 
 the idea of it myself. But it must be so, and it is 
 right: so, with the help of Grod, it can be done. All 
 send heartfelt greetings; and ever continue to love 
 youi 
 
 Felix. 
 
 To General von Webern, Berlin. 
 
 Interlachen, August 15th, 1847. 
 
 My dear, kind Friend, 
 
 T send you a thousand thanks for your letter of the 
 14th of July, which had been much delayed, as I only 
 received it here a short time ago. You have, no doubt, 
 seen my Brother since then, and he has probably told 
 you more minutely of my intention to visit Berlin this 
 autumn. But I cannot delay sending you an imme- 
 diate answer to your kind and friendly proposal about 
 the three concerts, but, indeed, I would rather not at 
 present agree to announce the three concerts (of 
 which two were to be “Elijah”). “Elijah” has not 
 yet been heard in Berhn, and it would not only appear 
 presumptuous, but would really be so, if I proposed to 
 the public to perform it twice in succession. In addi- 
 tion to this, my present mood makes me so decidedly 
 disinclined for all publicity, that I have with difficulty, 
 and chiefly through Paul’s sensible exhortations, re- 
 solved not to give up those performances to which I 
 
PROSPECTS OF GERMANY. 
 
 391 
 
 had already agreed. I intend, also, to fulfil my promise 
 to Herr von Arnim about the Friedrich Stift,* and the 
 14th of October seems to me a very suitable day. If 
 the sympathy in the work is so great that a repetition 
 of it is expected and desired within a short period, you 
 may imagine that this can only be a source of plea- 
 sure to me, and then I would gladly see the receipts of 
 the second performance applied entirely according to 
 your wish. If, in spite of this very unsatisfactory and 
 undecided answer, you will be so kind as to assist in 
 promoting the first performance in October, and inspir- 
 ing those who have to do with it, as soon as possible, 
 with some activity, you will do me a great service, and 
 I shall again owe you many thanks. For I know, as 
 you say, the difficulties consequent on the state of 
 things there, which is very similar to the sand, and 
 must be desperately ploughed up before it brings forth 
 any fruit. 
 
 Your letter to Cecile does not sound so cheerful as 
 usual. We hope that this may have only been caused 
 by some passing cloud, and that the sun of your gayer 
 mood again shines as brightly as we are accustomed to 
 see it with you. There are, to be sure, just now, very 
 dense misty fogs, if not thunder-clouds, in our Father- 
 land, and many a day that might be bright and clear 
 becomes thus sultry and grey, and all objects dim and 
 dull; yet no one can strive against this, or maintain 
 that they see the bright colours and forms which genu- 
 ine sunshine brings ; and, indeed, vivid lightning and 
 loud thunder out of the black cloud are sometimes pre- 
 
 * To allow the “ Elijah to be performed for the beuefit of that insti 
 totion. 
 
392 
 
 MENDETiSSOHN’s LETTERS. 
 
 ferable to vague mists and foggy abysses. Every one 
 suffers from them, but these mists do not yet absorb 
 the light, and cannot fail to be dispersed at last. That 
 no personal reason, no illness of your family or your- 
 self, or any other serious cause may exist for your de- 
 pression, is what we wish I 
 
 My wife and children are well, Grod be praised ! We 
 walk a great deal, the children do their lessons, Cecile 
 paints Alpine roses, and I write music : so the days 
 pass monotonously and quickly. Preserve your regard 
 for me as I ever shall for you, for ever and ever. — Your 
 friend, 
 
 Felix M. B. 
 
 To Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy. 
 
 Leipzig. October 25th, 1847. 
 
 Dearest Brother, 
 
 I thank you a thousand times for your letter to-day, 
 and for the hint you give about coming here, which I 
 seize with the utmost eagerness of heart. I reaUy did 
 not know till to-day what to say about my plans. God 
 be praised, I am now daily getting better, and my 
 strength returning more and more ; but to travel this 
 day week to Vienna (and that is the latest period which 
 will admit of my arriving in time for a rehearsal of their 
 Musical Festival) is an idea which cannot possibly be 
 thought of.* It is certainly very unlucky that they 
 should have made so many preparations, and that my 
 going there should be a second time put off. There is 
 
 * Mendelssobn was to direct the “Elijah” in Vienna. 
 
LAST ILLNESS. 
 
 393 
 
 no doubt, however, that my improvement in health is 
 day by day greater and more sure, so I have written to 
 ask if I may delay coming for a week ; but, as I said, I 
 place little faith in the practicability of the whole thing, 
 and it seems to me I must remain here. In no case 
 can I attempt to travel before eight days from this 
 time ; and as to the state of my expedition to Berlin, 
 has not Herr von Arnim reported it to you in regular 
 detail ? If I cannot go to Vienna, the same reasons 
 which prevent me going there must cause me to stay 
 here for a fortnight or three weeks, and to put off the 
 performance in Berlin till the end of November at the 
 latest ; and even if I do go to Vienna, this must of 
 course still be the case. 
 
 After, however, these interrupted performances, which 
 must now be carried through, that I positively under- 
 take no new ones is quite settled. If it were not 
 necessary to keep one’s promise I but this must be done, 
 and now the only question is whether I shall see you 
 again on Saturday? Say Yes to this; I believe you 
 would do me more good than all my bitter medicine. 
 Write me a couple of lines soon again, and be sure you 
 agree to come. My love to you all I and continue 
 your love for your 
 
 Felix. 
 
 On the 30th of October his brother was summoned 
 to Leipzig, in consequence of Mendelssohn being seized 
 by another attack of illness. He died on the 4th of 
 November. 
 
CATALOGUE 
 
 ALL THE MUSICAL COMPOSITIONS 
 
 OF 
 
 FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY. 
 
 I. THE PUBLISHED WORKS, IN CHRONOLOGICAL 
 ORDER. 
 
 U. THE UNPUBLISHED WORKS, CLASSIFIED UN 
 DER DIFFERENT HEADS. 
 
 COLLECTED PRINCIPALLY FROM THE AUTHOR’s ORIGINAL 
 MANUSCRIPTS, 
 
 AND ACCOMPANIED BY A PREFACE, 
 
 BY 
 
 JULIUS RIETZ 
 
PEEF AOE. 
 
 In the first section of this Catalogue a few compositions 
 are omitted, because the autograph notes, by which 
 Mendelssohn was in the habit of recording the date and 
 place of composition of his pieces, are wanting; the 
 precise date at which these works were composed can- 
 not therefore be given. They are as follows: — 
 
 Op. 6. Sonata for Pianoforte. 
 
 7. Seven characteristic pieces for Pianoforte. 
 
 8. Twelve Songs. 
 
 9. Twelve Songs (with the exception of No. 3) 
 11. Symphony No. 1. 
 
 14. Rondo Capriccioso for Pianoforte. 
 
 These may all be placed between 1824 and 1828 ; the 
 symphony, probably the earliest of all, about 1824 ; it 
 was not published, however, till much later, and was 
 then marked as Opus 11, that number happening to be 
 vacant. In marking his works with Opus figures, both 
 at that time and especially later, Mendelssohn invaria- 
 bly referred to the date, not of their composition, but 
 of their pubhcation ; years not unfrequently intervening 
 between the two. This fact is strikingly exemphfied 
 in the “ Walpurgis Nacht,’* which, though composed in 
 1830, was not pubfished till 1843, when indeed it was 
 34 
 
398 
 
 PREFACE TO CATALOGUE OF 
 
 much over-elaborated. In his books of songs and other 
 minor works, he was in the habit of selecting those 
 which answered his purpose, out of a large number 
 composed in different years. Thus, for example, the 
 six songs in the first book of songs for men’s voices 
 (op. 50) were composed between 1837 and 1840. Dates 
 are also wanting for 
 
 Op. 15. Fantasia for Pianoforte. 
 
 19. Six Songs, (with the exception of No. 6) 
 undoubtedly written between 1830 and 1834. 
 
 44. String Quartett, No. 1. 
 
 66. Trio No. 2, for Pianoforte, Violin, and Vio- 
 loncello. 
 
 72. Six Juvenile pieces. 
 
 83. Variations for Pianoforte. 
 
 All belonging to the last period, subsequent to 1840. 
 
 Besides these, the originals of many single songs, 
 with and without words, are so dispersed, that with the 
 most anxious desire to render the Catalogue complete, 
 and notwithstanding all the efforts of the Editor, they 
 have not yet been discovered. Still, even in its incom- 
 plete and imperfect condition, the Catalogue will be 
 interesting to the friends and admirers of this immortal 
 composer. It cannot fail also to be of great value to 
 Mendelssohn’s future biographer, for the striking picture 
 it furnishes of his development, of which the Thematic 
 Catalogue of Breitkopf and Hartel can give no idea, 
 since in its compilation it was not possible to observe 
 the chronological succession of the works. 
 
 This is the proper place to mention a widely-spread 
 report, to the effect that Mendelssohn’s sister, Fanny 
 Ilensel (who died on the 14th of May, 1847), had a 
 
MUSICAL COMrOSITIONS. 
 
 399 
 
 shtare in the composition of many of his works. Thus, 
 among others, she has been often named as the com- 
 poser of the entire first book of Songs without Words ” 
 (op. 19). This has been much exaggerated. We are 
 now enabled to reduce it to its proper proportions,* 
 and to state positively that Mendelssohn included six 
 only of his sister’s songs with words in his first four 
 books of songs, and beyond these not one of any hind 
 whatsoever. These songs are : — 
 
 “ Heimweh,” hTo. 2 
 
 Suleika and Hatem,” Duett, No. 12 ) 
 Sehnsucht,” No. 7 ) 
 
 Yerlust,” No. 10 [• in Opus 9. 
 
 Die Nonne,” No. 12 ) 
 
 We may further observe, that the song No. 12, “ Die 
 Blumenglocken mit hellem Schein,’* in the operetta 
 
 Heimkehr aus der Fremde ” (Son and Stranger), was 
 set to niusic by Carl Klingemann, the author of the 
 hbretto, Mendelssohn’s most intimate friend, who died 
 very recently. It had been already published by him 
 in 1829, in a book of songs (Logier, Berlin), with other 
 words, and was afterwards most charmingly and deli- 
 cately instrumented by Mendelssohn for the operetta. 
 
 In addition to the list contained in the thematic cata- 
 logue of Mendelssohn’s published works, the following 
 have since appeared in Germany. 
 
 1. Two Pianoforte Pieces : (a) Andante cantabile, in 
 B flat ; (b) Presto agitato, in G minor (Senff, Leipzig). 
 
 * In the tenth edition of Brockhaus’s ‘‘ Conversations-Lexicon,” vol. 
 vii., 1852, we read, “ She felt great repugnance to publish, S(» that her 
 brother often^ in jest, allowed her compositions to appear under hi? 
 name.” 
 
m 
 
 PREFACE TO CATALOGUE OF 
 
 2. Two Songs for four Men’s Voices: (a) ScMum- 
 mernd an des Yaters Brust (b) Auf, Freunde, lasst 
 das Jahr uns singen,” in the “ Eepertorium fur Manner- 
 gesang” (Kahnt, Leipzig). 
 
 A “ Te Deum,” for a four-part chorus and organ, with 
 English words, has been published in London. 
 
 Lastly, we must not omit to mention a published 
 work of Mendelssohn’s though not a musical one, 
 namely a translation of the Andria ” of Terence. Its 
 complete title is — 
 
 The Maiden of Andros, a Comedy by Terence, in 
 
 the metre of the original, translated by F ; with an 
 
 introduction and notes, edited by K. W. L. Heyse. 
 (Berlin, 1826, Ferdinand Durnmler.)” 
 
 As the existence of this little work, or at any rate 
 the fact that “ Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy ” is con- 
 cealed beneath the F ,” is not hitherto generally 
 
 known, this notice will be received with some interest. 
 
 II. The second division of the Catalogue is intended 
 to furnish a more ready means of reference to what 
 Mendelssohn has accomplished in the most various 
 styles of composition (beside the published works) ; it 
 is not arranged chronologically, but under different 
 heads, — Church Music, Dramatic, etc. etc. The immense 
 number of the works it includes, bears testimony to the 
 strict and conscientious manner in which Mendelssohn 
 acted with regard to himself, and how many pieces he 
 laid aside, which, if only revised, might have caused 
 great delight and enjoyment to the world. The list 
 also testifies to the caution of his representatives, and 
 to their desire to act in the same spirit as himself, by 
 
MUSICAL COMPOSITIONS. 
 
 401 
 
 not publishing anything among his papers which might 
 be unworthy of his name, or of his importance in the 
 history of art. Minor compositions for special occasions, 
 songs for family fetes^ canons in albums, etc. etc., of 
 which a vast number exist, are not included in the Ca- 
 talogue, chiefly because it was impossible to make even 
 an approach to a complete list. It may be mentioned, 
 that Mendelssohn added full obligato organ parts to 
 two of Handel’s oratorios, viz. “ Solomon ” and “ Israel 
 in Egypt,” as well as to the Dettingen Te Deum.” 
 Those for ‘‘ Solomon ” and the “ Te Deum ” remain in 
 manuscript; but those to ‘^Israel in Egypt” are pub- 
 lished in the edition of the Handel Society of London, 
 for whom Mendelssohn edited the oratorio. 
 
 J. R. 
 
I 
 
 PUBLISHED WORKS, 
 
 IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER. 
 
 1822. 
 
 Quartett for Pianoforte^ Yiolin, Tenor, and Violoncello, 
 in G minor, op. 1. Berlin.* 
 
 1823. 
 
 Quartett for Pianoforte, Violin, Tenor, and Violoncello, 
 in F minor, op. 2. Berlin. 
 
 Sonata for Pianoforte and Violin, in F minor, op. 4. 
 Berlin. 
 
 1824. 
 
 Quartett for Pianoforte, Violin, Tenor, and Violoncello, 
 in B minor, op. 3. Berlin. 
 
 “ Die Hochzeit des Camacho, Opera in Two Acts, op. 
 10. First Act. Berlin. 
 
 Overture for a Military Band, in C Major, op. 24. Dob- 
 beran. 
 
 Originally composed for the Band of the Dohberan Bathe 
 and subsequently arranged for a full Military Band. 
 
 * The name of the place inyariably indicates where the Work waa 
 composed, or at all events finished. 
 
MUSICAL COMPOSITIONS. 
 
 403 
 
 1825. 
 
 ^^Die Hochzeit des Camaclio,’* Overture and Second 
 Act. 
 
 This Opera was given once in the Berlin theatre, on the 29th 
 April, 1827. 
 
 Capriccio for Pianoforte, in F sharp minor, op. 5. Ber- 
 lin. 
 
 Octett for four Violins, tvro Tenors, and two Violoncel- 
 los, in E flat, op. 20. Berlin. 
 
 1826. 
 
 Quintett for two Violins, two Tenors, and Violoncello, 
 in A, op. 18. Berlin. 
 
 The Intermezzo, Andante sostemito, in F major, was com- 
 posed subsequently in Paris, in 1832. The Scherzo, in D 
 minor, originally formed the second movement ; the third was 
 a Minuetto, in F sharp. Allegro molto ; with a Trio, in By, Ca- 
 none doppio. 
 
 Overture to Shakspeare’s “ Midsummer Night’s 
 Dream,” in E major, op. 21. Berhn. 
 
 Song for Voice and Pianoforte, “ Es lauschte das Laub,” 
 op. 86, no. 1. 
 
 1827. 
 
 Quartett for two Violins, Tenor, and Violoncello, in A 
 minor, op. 13. Berhn. 
 
 Fugue for two Violins, Tenor, and Violoncello, in E 
 flat, in op. 81. 
 
 Fugue for Pianoforte, in E minor. Berhn. 
 
 No. 7 in a collection entitled, “ Notre Temps,” published by 
 Schott, of Mayence. 
 
 1828. 
 
 Quartett for two Violins, Tenor, and ViolonceUo, in E 
 flat, op. 12. Berhn. 
 
 At the period of its composition, this Quartett appeared as 
 “ the first for stringed instruments.” 
 
404 
 
 CATALOGUE OF 
 
 Overture, “ Meeresstille und gliickliclie Fahrt,” in D, op 
 27. Berlin. 
 
 Variations for Pianoforte and Violoncello, in D, op. 17. 
 Berlin. 
 
 1829. 
 
 Song for Voice and Pianoforte, “ Wartend,” op. 9, no 
 3. Berlin. 
 
 Song for Voice and Pianoforte, “ Der Blumenkranz.’’ 
 London. 
 
 This appeared at a much later period, in an Album of Spehr’s, 
 Brunswick. 
 
 Three Fantasias or Caprices for the Pianoforte, op. 16. 
 Coed Du, in Wales. 
 
 Heimkehr aus der Fremde,” Operetta in One Act, op. 
 89. London and Berlin. 
 
 Composed for the celebration of the silver wedding-day of his 
 parents. Performed in public for the first time on the 20th 
 April, 1851, in Leipzig. 
 
 1830. 
 
 Overture, Die Hebriden,” in B minor, op. 26. Rome. 
 Psalm CXV., Mcht unserm Xamen, Herr,” for Chorus, 
 Solo, and Orchestra, op. 31. Rome. 
 
 Song for Voice and Pianoforte, Reiselied,” op. 19, no. 
 6. Venice. 
 
 Song without words, “ Gondellied,” op. 19, no. 6. Ve- 
 nice. 
 
 A book of songs with words, and one of songs without 
 words, are each marked as Opus 19. 
 
 Three pieces of Sacred Music for Solo and Chorus, with 
 Organ, op. 23. Rome. 
 
MUSICAL COMPOSITIONS. 
 
 405 
 
 Three Motetts for Female Yoices with Organ, op. 39. 
 Eome. 
 
 Composed for the Nuns in Trinita de’ Monti, in Eome ; but 
 not published till 1888, when it was partly re-written. 
 
 1831. 
 
 Die erste Walpurgis Nacht,” BaUad, for Chorus, Solo, 
 and Orchestra, op. 60. Milan and Paris. 
 
 Ee-wi*itten in Leipzig in 1842, and published in 1843. 
 Yerleih’ uns Frieden,” Prayer, for Chorus and Orches- 
 tra. No opus number. Eome. 
 
 Song for Yoice and Pianoforte, Da lieg’ ich unter den 
 Baumen,” op. 84, no. 1. Dusseldorf. 
 
 Song for Yoice and Pianoforte, Die Liebende schreibt,’* 
 op. 86, no. 3. Untersee. 
 
 1832. 
 
 Concerto for Pianoforte and Orchestra, in G- minor, op. 
 25. Munich. 
 
 Capriccio Brillant, for Pianoforte with Orchestra, in B 
 minor, op. 22. London. 
 
 Fugue for Pianoforte, in B minor ; p. 35, no. 3. 
 
 1833. 
 
 Symphony, in A major, op. 90. Berlin. 
 
 Eepeatedly mentioned in Mendelssohn’s Letters from Italyj 
 as the Italian Symphony. 
 
 Overture, “ Zum Mahrchen von der schonen Melusine,** 
 in F, op. 32. Berlin. 
 
 Fantasia for Pianoforte, in F sharp minor, op. 28. Ber- 
 
 hn. , 
 
 Entitled on the autograph, “ Sonate Ecossaise.” 
 
 Capriccio for Pianoforte, in F sharp minor, op. 33, no. 
 3. London. 
 
406 
 
 CATALOGUE OF 
 
 “ Lied oline Worte,” in D, op. 30, no. 5. Diisseldorf. 
 Yocal Chorus, ‘‘Lord, have mercy,” in A minor. ISTo 
 opus number. Berlin. 
 
 Published in an Album, by Bosenberg, Leipzig. 
 
 1834. 
 
 Eondo Brillant for Pianoforte, in E flat, op. 29. 
 Capriccio for Pianoforte, in A minor, op. 33, no. 1. 
 
 “ Lieder ohne Worte — 
 
 Op. 30, Nos. 1 and 4. 
 
 Op. 85, No. 2. 
 
 Songs for Voice and Pianoforte : — 
 
 Minnelied,” op. 34, no. 1. 
 
 Auf Flugeln des G-esanges,” op. 34, no. 2. 
 
 “ Sonntagslied,” op. 34, no. 5. 
 
 “ Jagdlied,” op. 84, no. 3. 
 
 Eomance for Voice and Pianoforte, “ Schlafloser Augen,” 
 No opus number. 
 
 Published in an Album. Breitkopf and Hartel, Leipzig. 
 Three “ Volkslieder,” for Soprano, Alto, Tenor, and 
 • Bass, op. 41, nos. 2, 3, 4. 
 
 Commencement of the Oratorio of “ St. Paul.” 
 
 “ Todeslied der Bojaren,” from Immermann’s Tragedy 
 of Alexis,” for a chorus of men’s voices in unison, 
 and wind instruments ; in E minor. 
 
 First published as a contribution to the fourth volume of Im 
 mermann’s works. Schaub, Dusseldorf. 
 
 N.B. — All the works of this year were composed at Dusseldorf. 
 
 1835. 
 
 Oratorio of “ St. Paul,” op. 36. Dusseldorf and Leip- 
 zig. 
 
 Performed for the first time at the Musical Festival of the 
 Lower Khine, at Dusseldorf, on the 22nd of May, 1836. 
 
MUSICAL COMPOSITIONS. 
 
 407 
 
 Capriccio for Pianoforte, in E major, op. 33, no. 2, 
 Diisseldorf. 
 
 Fugue for Pianoforte, in A flat, op. 35, no. 4. Diisseldorf. 
 
 Song for Voice with Pianoforte, “Das Waldschloss.’' 
 No opus number. Berlin. 
 
 isae. 
 
 Preludes for Pianoforte, op. 35 : — no. 2, in D ; no. 3, in 
 B minor ; no. 5, in F minor. Leipzig. 
 
 Fugue for Pianoforte, op. 35, no. 6, B flat. Leipzig. 
 
 Fugue for the Organ, in Gr, op. 37, no. 2. Leipzig. 
 
 Etude and Scherzo for the Pianoforte, in F minor. No 
 opus number. Leipzig. 
 
 Two-part Song, with Pianoforte, “ Sonntagsmorgen,’* 
 op. 77, no. 1. Leipzig. 
 
 1837. 
 
 Concerto for Pianoforte and Orchestra, in D minor, op. 
 40. Bingen and Horchheim on the Rhine. 
 
 Quartett for Two Yiohns, Tenor, and Violoncello, in E 
 minor, op. 44, no. 2. Frankfort on the Main. 
 
 Psalm XLII., “Wie der Hirsch schreit,” for Chorus, 
 Solo, and Orchestra. Freyburg in Breisgau, and 
 Leipzig. 
 
 Preludes for Pianoforte, op. 35 : — no. 1, in E minor ; 
 no. 4, in A flat major ; no. 6, B flat. Leipzig. 
 
 Fugue for Pianoforte, op. 35, no. 2. Leipzig. 
 
 Three Preludes for the Organ, op. 37. Speyer. 
 
 Fugue for the Organ, op. 37, no. 1. Speyer. 
 
 Songs for Voice with Pianoforte : — 
 
 “ Suleika,” op. 34, no. 4. 
 
 “ Reiselied,” op. 34, no. 6. >- Leipzig. 
 
 “ Suleika,” op. 57, no. 3. ) 
 
408 
 
 CATALOGUE OJF 
 
 Songs for Four Male Voices : — 
 
 “ Sommerlied,” op. 50, no. 3. 
 
 Wasserfahrt,” op. 50, no. 4. 
 
 “ So lang man nuchtern ist,” op. 75, no. 3. 
 
 “ G-aben mir Eatb,” op. 76, no. 1. 
 
 Song for Soprano, Alto, Tenor, and Bass, “ Im Griinen,*- 
 op. 59, no. 1. Leipzig. 
 
 “Song without Words,’* in A minor, op. 38, no. 5. 
 Speyer. 
 
 1838. 
 
 Serenade and Allegro Giojoso for Pianoforte, with Or- 
 chestra, op. 43. Leipzig. 
 
 Quartett for Stringed Instruments, in E flat, op. 44, No. 
 3. Leipzig. 
 
 Sonata for Pianoforte and Violoncello, in B flat, op. 45. 
 Leipzig. 
 
 Psalm XCV., “ Kommt, lasst uns anbeten,” for Chorus, 
 Solo, and Orchestra, op. 46. Leipzig. 
 
 Andante Cantabile and Presto Agitato, for the Piano- 
 forte, in B. Without any opus number. Berlin. 
 
 Appeared in an Album. Breitkopf and Hartel, Leipzig. 
 
 Song for Four Male Voices, “ Tiirkisches Schenken- 
 lied,” op. 50, No. 1. Leipzig. 
 
 1839. 
 
 Psalm CXIV., “ Da Israel aus Egypten zog,” for an 
 eight-part Chorus and Orchestra, op. 51. Horch- 
 heim. 
 
 Trio, for Pianoforte, Viohn, and Violoncello, in D minor, 
 op. 49. Frankfort, Berlin, and Leipzig. 
 
 Sonata for the Organ, in 0 minor, op. 65, no. 2. Frank 
 fort. 
 
 " Leipzig, 
 
MUSICAL COMPOSITIONS. 
 
 409 
 
 Frankfort. 
 
 Overture to Yictor Hugo’s drama, “ Ruy Bias,” in 0 mi- 
 nor, op. 95. Leipzig. 
 
 Chorus for Two Female Voices, with Quartett accom- 
 paniment, from “ Buy Bias,” in A, op. 77, no. 3. 
 
 The foregoing two pieces were written for a performance of 
 “ Eny Bias ” for the benefit of the Theatrical Pension Fund, 
 at the request of the Committee of the Fund. 
 
 Six Songs, for Soprano, Alto, Tenor, and Bass, op. 48. 
 
 Frankfort and Leipzig. 
 
 Besides these : — 
 
 “Hirtenlied,” op. 88, no. 3. 
 
 '^Im Wald,” op. 100, no. 4. 
 
 Songs for Four Male Voices : — 
 
 ^‘Liebe und Wein,” op. 50, no. 5. 
 
 Abendstandchen,” op. 75, no. 2. 
 
 “Ersatz fur Unbestand.” Ho opus 
 number. 
 
 Songs for One V oice with Pianoforte : — 
 
 “ Friihlingslied,” op. 47, no. 3. ^ 
 
 “ Volksliqd,” op. 47, no. 4. V Leipzig. 
 
 “ Wiegenlied,” op. 47, no. 6. ; 
 
 “ Altdeutsches Lied,” op. 57, no. 1. Horchheim. 
 
 “ Hirtenhed,” op. 57, no. 2. 
 
 “ Herbstlied,” op. 84, no. 2. V L ' ' 
 
 “ Song without Words,” in F sharp minor, > ^ 
 
 op. 67, no. 2. 
 
 1840. 
 
 1 , , 
 
 ^ Leipzig. 
 
 ‘Hymn of Praise,” Symphony Cantata, op. 52. Leip- 
 zig. 
 
 Performed for the first time on the 25th of June, 1840, in the 
 Thomas Church at Leipzig, at the Celebration of the Fourth 
 Centenary of Printing. 
 
 A “ Festgesang,” for Male Voices and Brass Band, 
 35 
 
4i0 
 
 CATALOGUE OF 
 
 Begeht mit heil’gem Lobgesang.” No opus num- 
 ber. 
 
 For the opening of the same Festival in honour of Printing. 
 
 Songs for Four Male Yoices : — 
 
 “ Der Jager Abscbied,” op. 50, no. 2. 
 
 “ Wanderlied,” op. 50, no. 6. 
 
 Song for Soprano, Alto, Tenor, and Bass, Der wan- 
 demde Musikant,” op. 88, No. 6. 
 
 1841. 
 
 Music for “ Antigone,” op. 55. Berlin. 
 
 Performed for the first time on the 6th November, 1841, in 
 the New Palace, at Potsdam, and in the theatre at Berlin, on 
 the 18th of April, 1842. 
 
 Variations Serieuses, for the Pianoforte, in D minor, op. 
 54. Leipzig. 
 
 Variations for the Pianoforte, in E flat, op. 82. Leip- 
 zig. 
 
 Allegro Brillant for the Pianoforte, arranged as a Duett, 
 in A, op. 92. Leipzig. 
 
 Prelude for the Pianoforte, in E minor, for “Notre 
 Temps.” Refer to 1827. Leipzig. 
 
 Songs for Voice, with Pianoforte accompaniment: — 
 
 “ Frische Fahrt,” op. 57, no. 6. Leipzig. 
 
 “Erster Verlust,” op. 99, no. 1. Berlin. 
 
 “ Das Schiffleiri,” op. 99, no. 4. Leipzig. 
 
 Song for Voice, with Pianoforte, “Ich hor’ ein Voglein 
 locken.” No opus number. 
 
 Appeared first as a contribution to a Collection of Poetry b? 
 Adolph Bottger. 
 
 “ Songs without Words :” — 
 
 “ Volkslied,” in A minor, op. 53, no. 5. 
 
 in A major, op. 53, no. 6. 
 in B flat, op. 85, no. 6. 
 
 Leipzig. 
 
MUSICAL COMPOSITIONS. 
 
 411 
 
 1842. 
 
 Symphony, in A minor, op. 56. Berlin. 
 
 Called the “ Scotch Syinphony,” in the letters of 1880. 
 
 Songs for Voice with Pianoforte : — 
 
 “ Gondellied,” op. 57, no. 5. 
 
 “ Schilflied,’* op. 71, no. 4. 
 
 Song for two Voices, with Pianoforte, “ Wie war so 
 schon,” op. 63, no. 2. 
 
 “ Song without Words,” in A major, op. 62, no. 6. 
 
 1843. 
 
 Music for the “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” op. 61. 
 See year 1826. Leipzig. 
 
 Performed for the first time on the 14th of October, 1848, in 
 the New Palace, at Potsdam; and in the theatre at Berlin, on 
 the 18th October, 1843. 
 
 Sonata for Pianoforte and Violoncello, in D, op. 58. 
 Leipzig. 
 
 Choruses for Eacine’s “ Athalie.” Leipzig. 
 
 For female voices only, and with pianoforte accompaniment. 
 This work was performed, in its later shape, for the first time 
 on December 1st, 1845, in the Eoyal Theatre at Charlotten- 
 burg. See year 1846. 
 
 Concert Aria for Soprano with Orchestra, in B flat, op. 
 94. Leipzig. 
 
 Capriccio for Two Violins, Tenor, and Violoncello, in E 
 minor, in op. 81. Leipzig. 
 
 Psalm XCI., “ Singe t dem Herrn ein neues Lied,” for 
 Chorus and Orchestra, op. 91. Berlin. 
 
 For the celebration of New Tear’s Day, 1844, in the Dom 
 Kirche, at Berlin. 
 
 Psalm II., “ Warum toben die Heiden ?” for an eight 
 part Chorus, op. 78, no. 1. Berlin. 
 
412 
 
 CATALOGUE OF 
 
 Anthem, “Herr Gott, du hist unsre Zuflucht,” for a 
 Chorus of Eight Voices, op. 79, no. 2. Berhn. 
 
 Hymn for a Contralto, Chorus, and Orchestra, op. 96. 
 Leipzig. 
 
 The elaboration of a work formerly published by Simrock 
 of Bonn, without any opus-number, entitled “ Three Sacred 
 Songs for an Alto Voice, Chorus, and Organ.” 
 
 op. 69, nos. 
 Leipzig. 
 
 Song for Voice with Pianoforte, “Es weiss und rath es 
 doch Keiner,” op. 99, no. 6. 
 
 Songs for Soprano, Alto, Tenor, and Bass : — 
 
 “ Friihzeitiger Fruhling,” 
 
 “ Abschied vom Walde,” 
 
 “ Die Hachtigall,” 
 
 “ Euhethal,” 
 
 “ Jagdhed,’’ 
 
 “ Ich haV ein Liebchen,” op. 88, no. 2. 
 
 “ Die Waldvoglein,” op. 88, no. 4. 
 
 “ Lob des Fruhlings,” op. 100, no. 2. ) 
 
 “ Songs without Words — 
 
 B, op. 62, no. 2. 
 
 E minor, op. 62, no. 3. 
 
 G, op. 62, no. 4. 
 
 C, op. 67, no. 4. 
 
 2 to 6. 
 
 Leipzig. 
 
 - Leipzig. 
 
 1844. 
 
 Concerto for the Violin, with Orchestra, in E minor, op. 
 64. Leipzig. 
 
 Overture to “ Athalie,’* in D minor, and March of the 
 Priests, in F, op. 74. London. 
 
 Hymn, “ Hor’ mein Bitten,” for a Soprano, Chorus, and 
 Organ. Ho number. Berhn. 
 
MUSICAL COMPOSITIONS. 
 
 413 
 
 r Frankfort. 
 
 Sonatas for the Organ, op. 65 
 F minor, no. 1. 
 
 C minor, no. 2. 
 
 A major, no. 3. 
 
 D minor, no. 6. J 
 
 Psalms for a Choir of Eight Voices, op. 78. 
 
 Psalm XLIII., Richte mich Gott,” ISTo. 2. 1 
 Psalm XLII., “ Mein Gott, warum hast V Berlin 
 Du,” no. 3. ) 
 
 Songs for Four Male Voices : — 
 
 Wem Gott wiU,” op. 75, no. 1. 1 
 So riickt denn,” op. 75, no. 4. >• Berlin. 
 
 “ Rheinweinlied,” op. 76, no. 2. ) 
 
 Songs for Soprano, Alto, Tenor, and Bass : — 
 
 “ Neujahrslied,” op. 88, no. 1. 
 
 Andenken,” op. 100, no. 1. 
 
 “ Songs without Words — 
 
 G, op. 62, no. 1. Berlin. 
 
 E flat, op. 67, no. 1. Leipzig. 
 
 B minor, op. 51. Berlin. 
 
 Songs for Two Voices with Pianoforte :- 
 Gruss,” op. 63, no. 2. 
 
 “ Herbstlied,” op. 63, no. 3. 
 
 Maiglockchen und die Blumelein,” op. 63, no. 6. 
 Berlin. 
 
 1845. 
 
 j. Leipzig. 
 
 Music for “ Oedipus von Kolonos, ” op. 93. Leipzig 
 and Frankfort. 
 
 Performed for the first time on the 1st November, 1845, in 
 the New Palace at Potsd^Tn and in the theatre at Berlin on 
 the 10th Novreinber, 184,5. 
 
 Quintett for two Violins, two Tenors, and Violoncello, 
 in B flat, op. 87. Soden. 
 
 35* 
 
414 
 
 CATALOGUE OF 
 
 Athalie,” instrumentatioii and arrangement of the 
 Choruses for Soprano, Alto, Tenor, and Bass. See 
 the years 1843 and 1844. Op. 74. 
 
 Sonatas for the Organ : — 
 
 B flat, op. 65 no. 4 
 D minor, op. 65, no. 6. j 
 Songs for One Voice with Pianoforte : — 
 
 “ Trostung,” op. 71, no. 1. Leipzig. 
 
 “ Fruhlingslied,’* op. 71, no. 2. Frankfort. 
 
 “ Wenn sich zwei Herzen scheiden,” op. 99, no. 5. 
 Leipzig. 
 
 Songs without Words — 
 
 B flat, op. 67, no. 3. Leipzig. 
 
 D, op. 84, no. 4. ) 
 
 A, op. 84, no. 5. ) 
 
 Anthems for an Eight-part Chorus : — 
 
 “ Frohlocket, ihr Volker,” op. 97, no. 1. 
 
 “Herr, gedenke,’’ op. 79, no. 4. 
 
 Commencement of the Oratorio of “Elijah.” 
 
 1846. 
 
 Cantata to the “ Sons of Art,” Male Chorus and Brass 
 Band, op. 68. 
 
 Written for the first German-Flemish Yocal Festival at Co- 
 logne. 
 
 “ Lauda Sion,” for Chorus, Solo, and Orchestra, op. 73. 
 
 For the church of St. Martin, in Luttich. 
 
 “Elijah,” Oratorio, op. 70. 
 
 Performed for the first time at Birmingham, August 25, 
 1846. 
 
 Song for Four Male Voices, “Was uns eint als deutsche 
 Briider,” op. 76, no. 3. 
 
 For the Germans in Lyons. 
 
MUSICAL COMPOSITIONS. 
 
 415 
 
 Anthems for an Eight-part Chorus : — 
 
 “Erhaben, 0 Herr,” op. 79, no. 3. 
 
 “ Lasset uns frohlocken,” op. 79, no. 5. 
 
 All the works of this year were composed in Leipzig. 
 
 1847. 
 
 Three Motetts for Chorus and Solo Voices, op. 69. 
 Baden-Baden and Leipzig. 
 
 Recitative and Choruses from the unfinished Oratorio, 
 “ Christus,” op. 97. 
 
 Finale of the first Act from the unfinished Opera of 
 ‘‘ Loreley,” op. 98. Leipzig. 
 
 Besides this finale there are only extant, an Ave Maria for 
 Soprano Solo and Female Chorus, a grand March with Chorus, 
 and the beginning of three other pieces of music. 
 
 Quartett for Two Violins, Tenor, and Violoncello, in F 
 minor, op. 80. Interlachen. 
 
 Andante and Scherzo for Two Violins, Tenor, and Vio- 
 loncello, in op. 81. 
 
 Songs for One Voice with Pianoforte : — 
 
 “ An die Entfernte,” op. 71, no. 3. Leipzig. 
 
 “Auf der Wanderschaft,” op. 71, no. 5. Interla- 
 chen. 
 
 Nachtlied,” op. 71, no. 6. Leipzig. 
 
 Song for Four Male Voices, Comitat,” op. 76, no. 4. 
 Frankfort. 
 
 Song for Two Voices with Pianoforte, “Das Aehren- 
 feld,” op. 77, no. 2. Leipzig. 
 
 Song for Voice with Pianoforte, “ Altdeutsches Fruh- 
 lingslied,” op. 86, no. 6. 
 
 Mendelssohn’s last composition, written on the 7th Octobei 
 184T, in Leipzig. 
 
416 
 
 CATALOGUE OF 
 
 IL 
 
 WORKS NOT PUBLISHED. 
 
 Sacred Music. 
 
 “ Magnificat ” for Chorus and Orchestra, in D. 1822. 
 Juba Domine” for Chorus and Soli, without Orches- 
 tra. 1822. 
 
 G-loria ” for a four-part Chorus and Orchestra, in E 
 flat. 
 
 Kyrie ” for two Choruses and Soli, in C irinor. 
 
 “ Jesus meine Zuversicht,” Chorale, four and five 
 Voices. 1824. 
 
 ‘‘Ich bin durch der Hoffnung Band,” Chorale and 
 Fugue, for four and five Voices. 
 
 Kyrie ” for a five-part Chorus and Orchestra. 1825. 
 Und ob du mich ziichtigest, Herr,” Canon for five 
 Voices. 
 
 “ 0 Beata,” Chorus for three Female Voices and Organ. 
 Te Deum Laudamus,” for an eight-part Chorus. 
 Eight movements. 1826. 
 
 Tu es Petrus,” for a five-part Chorus and Orchestra. 
 1827. 
 
 “ Christe, du Lamm Gottes,” Cantata for four Voices 
 and stringed instruments. 
 
MUSICAL COMPOSITIONS. 
 
 417 
 
 “ Ach Gott vom Himmel sieh darein,” Cantata for four 
 Voices and Orchestra. 
 
 ‘*Vom Himmel hoch, da komm’ ich her,” Christmas 
 hymn for four voices and Orchestra. Eome. 1831. 
 
 “ Hora est de somno surgere,” for four Four-part 
 Choirs. 
 
 “ Ad vesperas Dom. XXI. post Trinitatis. Eesponso- 
 rium et Hymnus,” for three- and four-part Male Cho- 
 rus. 
 
 “ Beati mortui,” for a four-part Male Chorus. 
 
 Two Enghsh Psalm-tunes for four voices. 1839. 
 
 Nine pieces in the Oratorio of “ St. Paul,” subsequently 
 omitted : — four Choruses, three Chorales, four Eecita- 
 tives, a Soprano Aria, and a Duett for Tenor and 
 Bass. 
 
 “ Herr Gott, dich loben wir,” Chorale for double Cho- 
 rus, Organ, four Trombones, and stringed instruments, 
 for the celebration of the German Tausendjahrige fes- 
 tival. 1843. 
 
 Psalm C., ‘‘ Jauchzet dem Herrn,” for a four-part Cho- 
 rus. 1844. 
 
 The German Liturgy, for two four-part Choirs. 
 
 Wir glauben all’ an einen Gott,” for Chorus and Or- 
 chestra. 
 
 The most important of these works a capella^ the “To 
 Deuiii,” the “ Hora est,” etc., were written from 1826 to 1828 
 for the Berlin Singing Academy, at that time under Zelter’s 
 management, and were constantly sung there. The four last- 
 named pieces were composed for the Cathedral Choir at Ber- 
 lin. 
 
 Secular Cantatas. 
 
 Grand Festival Music for the Diirer Festival. The 
 Poem by Professor Levetzow. Performed in the 
 
418 
 
 CATALOGUE OF 
 
 Hall of the Singing Academy at Berlin, on the 12th 
 of April, 1828. Instrumental Introduction, and four- 
 teen Numbers — Solos, G-rand fugued Choruses, etc. 
 
 Festival Music, for a festival given in the Hall of the 
 Eoyal Theatre at Berlin, by Alexander von Hum- 
 boldt. The -words by L. Eellstab. For Male Voices, 
 with accompaniment of Clarionets, Horns, Trumpets, 
 Kettle-drums, Violoncello, and Double Bass. Seven 
 numbers. Solos and Choruses. 1827. 
 
 Festal Song at the uncovering of the statue of Fried- 
 rich August the Just, at Dresden, on the 9tli June, 
 1842, for two Male Choirs and Brass Band. 
 
 Dramatic. 
 
 “ Die beiden Padagogen,” Comic Operetta, in one Act, 
 adapted from the French. Overture and ten num- 
 bers. 
 
 “ Soldatenliebschaft,” Comic Operetta, in one Act. 
 Overture and fourteen numbers. 
 
 Die wandernden Komodianten,” Comic Opera in one 
 Act. Overture and twelve numbers. 1821. 
 
 “ Der Onkel aus Boston, oder die beiden Neffen,” Comic 
 Opera in three Acts. 1822-1823. Overture and 
 fourteen numbers, with much Ballet Music. 
 
 Music to Calderon’s Tragedy, “ The Steadfast Prince.” 
 Two Choruses for Male Voices, Battle-piece, Melo- 
 drama. 1834. 
 
 Written for a performance in Dtisseldorf. 
 
 For Voice, with Orchestral Accompaniment or 
 Stringed Instruments. 
 
 Eecitative and Aria, “ Che vuoi mio cor,” for a Contral- 
 to, ac(?ompanied by Stringed Instruments. 1824. 
 
MUSICAL COMPOSITIONS. 
 
 419 
 
 Scena and Aria, for a Soprano, with OrcJiestra. 1834. 
 
 Much of this was afterwards made use of in the Aria, op. 94, 
 the only instance in which Mendelssohn’s artistic energy per- 
 mitted him so to do. 
 
 Air for Barytone and Orchestra, with English Words, 
 written for Phillips, the singer, of London. 1846. 
 
 Songs for Voice, with Pianoforte Accompaniment. 
 
 Songs, finished ballads, several in Italian, chiefly from 
 Mendelssohn’s earlier period to the year 1834. The 
 words are, with few exceptions, by unknown poets, 
 and the enumeration of the individual pieces can be 
 of httle interest. Their number is from twenty to 
 thirty. 
 
 For Four Male Voices. 
 
 ‘ A frischer Bua bin ich,” for Immermann’s Andreas 
 Hofer.” 1833. 
 
 Der weise Diogenes war der erste der griechischen 
 Sieben,” Canon for twice Two Voices. 1833. 
 
 “ Musikanten Prugelei.” 1833. 
 
 “ Im Nebelgeriesel, im tiefen Schnee,” Gipsy Song by 
 Goethe, for two Two-part Choirs. 
 
 “ Worauf kommt es uberall an,” by Goethe. 1837. 
 
 “ Auf ihr Herrn und Damen schon,” Hunting Song. 
 1837. 
 
 Morning Song of the Thuringian Vocal Association, 
 Seid gegriisset, traute Briider.” For the Festival 
 in Eisenach. 1847. 
 
 For Full Orchestra. 
 
 Symphony, in D. 1822. 
 
 Grand Overture, in C. 1825. 
 
 Pel formed at the Musical Festival In DQsseldorf, at Whit- 
 suntide, 1833. 
 
420 
 
 CATALOGUE OF 
 
 Sympnony for the celebration of the Reformation Fes- 
 tival, in D minor. 1830. 
 
 Performed in London and Berlin. 
 
 Marches for smaller Military Bands, composed for the 
 use in Church Processions at Dusseldorf. 1833. 
 
 March for a fuU Orchestra, in D, in celebration of the 
 visit of Cornelius the painter to Dresden. 
 
 For Strings. 
 
 Ten Four-, Five-, and Six-part Symphonies, in the. 
 years 1820 to 1823. 
 
 Concerto for the Violin, with accompaniment of String- 
 ed Instruments, in D minor. 
 
 Quartett for Two Violins, Tenor and Violoncello, in E 
 flat. 1823. 
 
 Many single Four- and Five-part pieces. Fugues, etc. 
 
 For Pianoforte, with Accompaniment. 
 
 Concerto for Two Pianos, with Orchestra, in E. 1823. 
 
 Concerto for Two Pianos, with Orchestra, in A flat. 
 1824. 
 
 Concerto for Pianoforte and Violin, with Stringed In- 
 struments, in D minor. 1823. 
 
 Concerto for Pianoforte, with Stringed Instruments, in 
 A minor. 
 
 Sextett for Pianoforte, Violin, Two Tenors, Violoncello, 
 and Double Bass, in D. 1824. 
 
 Quartett for Pianoforte, Violin, Tenor, and Violoncello, 
 in D minor. 
 
 Trio for Pianoforte, Violin, and Tenor, in C miner 
 1820. 
 
 Sonata for Pianoforte and Tenor, in C minor. 1824. 
 
 Sonata for Pianoforte and Clarionet, in E flat. 
 
MUSICAL COMPOSITIONS. 
 
 421 
 
 Sonata for Pianoforte and Yiolin, in D minor. 
 
 Sonata for Pianoforte and Violin, in F. 1838. 
 
 “ Song without Words,” for Pianoforte and Violoncello. 
 For Fraulein Lisa Christiani. 
 
 For Pianoforte Solo. 
 
 G-rand Fantasia. 1823. 
 
 Fantasia, four hands, in D minor, 1824. 
 
 Sonatina, in B flat minor. 1824. 
 
 Sonata, in B flat. 1827. 
 
 Andante and Allegro, in E major and E minor. 1837. 
 A vast number of Songs without Words, Studies, Pre- 
 ludes, Fugues, Juvenile Pieces, etc., of aU dates. 
 
 For Clarionet and Corno di Bassetto, with Piano- 
 forte Accompaniment. 
 
 Two Concertos for the Koyal Bavarian Kammer-Musi- 
 ker, Herren Barmann, father and son, composed in 
 Munich, in 1832. 
 
 the end. 
 
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