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 _indefinite_ to be put into words, but, on the 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.[58] Resignation, melancholy, the praise of God, a hunting-song,--one person does not form the same conception from these that another does. Resignation 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 is the only one I can give,--although these too are nothing, after all, but ambiguous words!
TO WIRKLICH GEHEIMRATH HERR VON MASSOW.
Berlin, October 23rd 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 Evangelical Church music here. As I already told the Minister (and your Excellency quite agreed to this in our last conversation), such a situation, if considered _practically_, must either consist of a general superintendence of all the present organists, choristers, school-masters, 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 superfluous 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, difficulties 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 correspondence 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 responding 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 designs; 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 candidly 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 meantime to reside and to work, and to await his commands in some other place, where I could for the moment 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 consider it a great happiness to hasten back and to exert my best energies for such a Sovereign, whose mandates 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 obliging as to promote my wish is my present request, and the object of this letter.--I am, your Excellency’s most devoted
FELIX M. B.
TO HIS MAJESTY THE KING OF PRUSSIA.[59]
Berlin, October, 28th, 1842
Your 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 Royal Church choirs, to form a nucleus for these choirs, as well as for any amateurs of singing who might subsequently 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 ensure its greater development.
Also, in order to support the singing of the congregation by instruments, which produce the most solemn and noble effects,--as your Majesty may remember, during the celebration of the Jubilee in the Nicolai Church,--it is proposed that a small number of instrumentalists (probably selected from the members of the Royal Orchestra) should be engaged, who are also intended to form the basis for subsequent grand performances of oratorios, etc.
The direction of a musical choir of this instructive nature, a genuine Royal Orchestra, your Majesty expressed your intention to entrust 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 public 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 permit 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 Majesty, 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 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 23rd, 1842.
We are now again settled in Leipzig, and fairly established here for this winter and till late in the spring. The old localities where we passed so many happy days so pleasantly are now re-arranged with all possible comfort, 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 ensure 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 obtain my dismissal on such and such grounds, requesting him to communicate the contents of this letter to his 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 believed that this would have affected her so terribly as it actually 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 carrying such and such plans into execution as well as he believed I could do, then he would entrust 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 _élite_ of the theatrical orchestra); their duties to consist in Church music on Sundays and at festivals, and besides this, in performing oratorios and so forth; that I was to direct these, and to compose music for them, etc. etc. “Certainly,” said I, “if there were any chance of such a thing here, if this were only accomplished;” 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 _his_ 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 essential 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 consider, and to send my answer to Massow, who was present during the whole of this conversation of an hour and a quarter. He was quite flushed with excitement 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 afterwards I wrote to the King, and said that after his words to me I could no longer think of leaving his service, but that, on the contrary, my best abilities should be at his command so long as I lived. He had mentioned 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 was 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 offers 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 graciously 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 durable benefit 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 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 instance, I am to supply him with music for the “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” the “Storm,” and “Œdipus 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-expeditions, I always found to be an excellent, honest, obliging 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 Hôtel de Reichenbach, 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.[60] Is it in your power to get this done? The first inn there is the ‘Wilde Mann,’ the second the ‘Reichenbach,’ 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 full view of the Engelhorn, and the glacier of the Rosenlaui. Michael said that the editor of the Handbook had been there, and very much _fêté_ 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 all_.” 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 something 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 would like him, I know. I would fain draw a great deal now, and gladly devote myself to all manner of _allotria_, including composition; but I see lying before me an enormous thick packet of proofs of my A minor symphony, 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 of 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 so, and again rejoice your true friends by your presence, 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.
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 suggestion, 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 undertake 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 ensure 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 social--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 expenditure 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 “Athalia.” The “Midsummer Night’s Dream” and “Œdipus” 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 intended, but did not become so from want of courage on my part, and I must also complete my violoncello sonata.
Old Schröder’s concert took place three days ago, in which I played, and directed the overture to “Ruy Blas;” the old _déclamatrice_ delighted us all exceedingly 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 remarkable. 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 Döhler’s concert; she will also probably sing in our subscription concert next Thursday; the days which she passes in any town, are not of the most quiet description for her acquaintances. We had besides, Tichatschek, Wagner, Döhler, Mühlenfels,--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 Letters,’ “Wenn ich Kunstrichter wäre,” 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.
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 Commissioners, W. G. R. von Massow and W. G. R. General 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, Von Bodelschwingh, that, until you enter on your functions, you decline receiving more than fifteen hundred _thalers_, instead of three thousand. I nominate you General Music Director, and entrust to you the superintendence and direction of church and sacred music as your appointed sphere of action.--Charlottenburg, November 22nd, 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 accordance 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 material obstacles exist, is again evident from this cabinet order, 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 goodwill towards it.
Herr von Massow writes to me (only yesterday) that I had better soon come again to Berlin, to converse with him and Graf von Redern, 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 23rd. A longer stay is unfortunately impossible; still you and I can have some political gossip together, and be inseparable during my stay.
The King having on this occasion conferred on me a new title,[61] almost embarrasses me; I am unwilling to be of the number of those in the present day, who possess 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.
TO HIS MOTHER.
Leipzig, December 11th, 1842.
Dearest Mother,
On the 21st or 22nd, 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 Nacht” 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 trombones, 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 mention the rest of the clipping and cutting. If I don’t like 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 “Œdipus.” The music school here, please God! will make a beginning next February; Hauptmann, David, Schumann and his wife, Becker, Pohlenz, and I, are to be the teachers at first. It commences with ten sinecures; the rest who may wish to have instruction, 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 well,--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.
What you write to me about the _répertoire_ of your Berlin concerts, does not inspire me with any wish to hear more about them. The arrangement of the “Aufforderung zum Tanz,” and the compositions of English ambassadors,--these are valuable things! If experiments 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 cynical; 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.[62] Bendemann was here the day before yesterday, to inspect it once more. All the inner scaffolding had been removed, so the pillars and smaller columns, 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 artists, which would be very pleasant for us, but it does harm to the cause. Art is becoming spoiled and sluggish, 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 General 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;[63] 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 passages, 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 compose what you call “a Biblical Walpurgis Night.” I have endeavoured to obviate this deficiency by the passages written in Roman letters, but there is still something 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 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.
Reflect, also, whether it is justifiable that no positively 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 purpose? 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 ‘Méthode des Méthodes.’ While turning over its leaves, I could not help thinking that you will here and there find much that will be useful. If that 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 22nd, 1842.[64]
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 had 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 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 perceive 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, instrumentation, and similar things. This can be accomplished 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 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,”[65] 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. Continue to love me.--Your
FELIX.
TO PROFESSOR KÖSTLIN, TÜBINGEN.
Leipzig, January 12th, 1843.
Dear Herr Köstlin, 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! Indeed, you may well believe that I gladly accede to the request, and after reading your letter, it was some moments before I could realize, that I could not possibly be present at the baptism. In earlier days, no reasoning would have been of any avail; I would have taken post horses and arrived in your house for the occasion. 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 all 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 other avocations, which I am obliged to undertake partly for myself and partly for others, so that I really sometimes can only carry on life 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, in fact, my mood many a week; I extort the 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 single 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 all 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 welcome at all times, and in all 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! Give 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 Gade, and we are to perform it in 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-sounding 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 feeling of congeniality; would that it came less seldom!
TO A. W. GADE, PROFESSOR OF MUSIC, COPENHAGEN.
Leipzig, January 13th, 1842.
Sir,
We yesterday rehearsed for the first time your symphony 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 favourable 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 compositions; but as I hear that 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
anticipate these with the brightest hopes. I once more thank you for it and the enjoyment I yesterday had.
We are to have some more rehearsals of the symphony, and shall probably perform it in the course of three or four weeks. The parts were so full of mistakes, 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 new piece, but as one familiar and dear to the whole orchestra. This was indeed the case yesterday, and there was only one voice on the subject among us _musicians_, but it must be played so that _every one_ may hear it properly. Herr Raymond Härtel 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 will 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.
TO CARL KLINGEMANN, LONDON.
Leipzig, January 13th, 1843.
I cannot as yet at all reconcile myself to distraction of thought and every-day life, 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 news_. I now feel however more vividly than ever what a heavenly calling Art is; and for this also I have to thank my parents; just when all else which ought to interest the 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 instrumental 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 compositions; but this mere mechanical pursuit and employment, was my consolation the whole time that I was alone, when I had not my wife and children with their beloved faces, who make me forget even music, and cause me daily to think how grateful I ought to be to God, for all the benefits he bestows on me.
You have not quite understood my previous letter. You say “I _could not act otherwise_ in my official position.” It was not _that_, it was my Mother I alluded to. All the plans and projects have since then been dragging on slowly; I have my half-salary, and begun the music for the “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” “Œdipus” and others for the King. My private opinion is still, that he is resolved to allow things to rest as they are; in the meantime, 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 “Siebenkäs,” 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 “Blumenstücke,” and begin at once at page 26, and follow the story of “Siebenkäs” to its close. When you have read this, and perhaps also the “Flegel Jahre,” and 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 “Blumenstücke,” 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 A. W. GADE, PROFESSOR OF MUSIC, COPENHAGEN.
Leipzig, March 3rd, 1843.
Sir,
Your C minor symphony was performed for the first time yesterday at our eighteenth subscription concert here, to the lively and unalloyed delight 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 interminable; after the adagio the very same; after the last, and after the first,--in short, after all! To see the musicians so unanimous, the public 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 in your work, I felt nothing but pure delight in all its admirable beauties. 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 henceforth 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 to 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 life 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 exception of some trifling unimportant mistakes, the symphony was played with a degree of spirit and enthusiasm 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, 6/4 time, afterwards repeated, may not give rise to misapprehension? If I am not mistaken it is marked _moderato sostenuto_. Instead of this _sostenuto_, ought it not rather to be printed _con moto_, or _con molto di moto_? That heading would, it seems to me, lead to the right _tempo_, if it were 6/8 time instead of 6/4; but in 6/4 time, it is so very customary to count the separate crotchets 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 resolved 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;[66] 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, have 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 localities of several stories,--whereas, I maintain that for 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 from wishing to render Art a mere handicraft.
TO M. 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 “Zauberflöte;” but I now apply to yourself to know whether any copy of it still exists in the original German, 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, with the words “Dies Bildniss ist bezaubernd schön,” but if in the course of a few years the younger musicians always see it printed thus, “So reizend hold, so zaub’risch schön,” they will acquire a false idea of 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 proposed, 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 BARTHOLDY.
TO G. OTTEN, HAMBURG.
Leipzig, July 7th, 1843.
Sir,
My best thanks for your obliging letter, which contains 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 playing with my music; I feel quite embarrassed by such 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. To be sure, a new one is sure to 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 therefore 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 BARTHOLDY.
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 communication connected with that tedious everlasting affair, which irritated me so much that it almost made me ill, 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,[67] Herr von Massow sends me a commission to arrange for orchestra and chorus, without delay, the chorale, “Herr Gott, Dich loben wir,” the longest chorale and the most tiresome work which I ever attempted; 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 additional clauses are written on the margin, not one syllable of which had ever been named during the conference, invalidating the whole intention of the above stipulations, and placing myself and the Institute in the most entire subservience to Herr von Küstner,--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 direction; before every concert there must be an application made to the General _Intendancy_, whether the day, which according to our agreement was to be settled once for all at the beginning of the winter, is to continue 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 “Œdipus.” I answered that in accordance with Tieck’s wish, I had arranged the “Midsummer Night’s Dream” with music, to be performed in the new palace; that I had also, by special commission from the King, written choruses,[68] and that I had not resumed the choruses of “Œdipus” 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 whether 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 that in all and everything the same 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 possibility of something good and new; but they are not spoken, and they are replaced by a thousand annoyances, 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 causing 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 mountain I think is excellent, but I have again utterly destroyed 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 letter, 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 “Tausendjährige Reich,” and to hear from the King his views with regard to the composition 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 my visit is convenient to you? This time I shall remain at least eight days; on the sixth is the celebration of the above-mentioned “Reich.” Give me a line in answer.
I have a reply to my letter from Von 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 correspondence must entail, and that as I am coming at all events for the “Tausendjährige Reich,” I can also reply personally to the _zehntausendjährige_ affair. Herr von Massow, in fact, says pretty plainly, “Asking and bidding make the bargain;” that he wished to see whether 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 discussion on business; probably the easiest mode of bringing about a result. I wish, if possible, to defer this till after the celebration of the _tausendjährig_ festival; 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 occasion than for a long time past, I shook off in a defile on the way to Naumburg, close to Rippach, where you drive down to Meissenfels; and a couple of good talks and walks with Mühlenfels, fairly banished every trace of it. Kösen was a pretty sight; we met Mlle. 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 26th, 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.[69] To-day I got a second letter, with the information that the King desires to have three representations in the New Palace in the second half of September, namely, 1, “Antigone;” 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 transcriber, 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 Küstner (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.
TO THE HOCH EDELRATH OF LEIPZIG.
(THE CORPORATION.)
Leipzig, October 3rd, 1843.
To the Corporation of the City of Leipzig, I am indebted 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 account 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 request, 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 regulations; and for the attainment of this purpose the intervention 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 expend 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 donation to the orchestra.”
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 groschen; 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 _injustice_, _fairness_ and _unfairness_, to exist in the remuneration of intellectual services; that this does not depend upon the goodwill, 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 convinced 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; if, by his consent to increase the salaries, he would not become bankrupt himself; and whether, in endeavouring 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 orchestra; and lastly, the pay of other German 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 decline 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 _entrepreneur_ would grudge an outlay like 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 increased 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, 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 orchestra, 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 to 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 Leipzig.
This leads me to the third point. It has been said that a comparison of the salaries here with those in other towns is inadmissible. But how is it possible to arrive in a better manner at a scale of justice or injustice, in similar payments? 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-Maine 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 German city; indeed, undeniably superior to most of those with which I am acquainted! The favourable and wide-spread musical reputation which Leipzig enjoys through the whole of Germany, 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 material advantage for the town of Leipzig, even independent 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 payment 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 performances? It is notorious that they are in no degree in proportion to the increased receipts of the lessee; they are not in proportion to the remuneration for 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 augmentation 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 indifference, 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.
TO THE KING OF PRUSSIA.
Berlin, 1844.
Your Majesty,
I venture in these lines to bring before you a petition which I have much at heart.
Among the vast number of compositions sent to me from musicians here and in other places, I lately received some works of a young man of the name of G----, 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 Good Friday, which, (each in its own peculiar style,) displayed genuine conceptions, and a true artistic nature. Indeed, the sacred music inspires me with a strong hope, that the composer may accomplish something really important 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 himself to rely on.
His most anxious wish is therefore to come to Berlin, there to pursue his musical studies and compositions, and to cultivate his talents for future practical efficacy. But for the fulfilment of this wish all pecuniary resources 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 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 difficulties, 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 removed, and your Majesty have made one happy man the more.
I believe if he were allowed for two years two hundred thalers each year, this would suffice, 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 meantime.
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.[70]
_From Wirklich Geheimrath Ritter Bunsen, to Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy_, _Frankfort-on-the-Maine_.[71]
Berlin, Sunday morning, April 28th, 1844.
My dear and esteemed Friend,
I hope that these lines may find you free from 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 refusal to compose music for the “Eumenides.” I was with him when Graf Redern gave him back the book with this decision. As I saw this 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 entrust the work to another artist, who, it seems, has promised to undertake 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 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 consideration 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 gefällt” 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 insufficient 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.
Rejoice me soon by the intelligence that the whole thing is a misunderstanding, and that you are willing to compose music for the “Eumenides.” Tieck himself 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 glorious subject! What an unparalleled effect! Your “Antigone” choruses are making the tour of Europe; those of Æschylus 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 painfully; that after having endured so much misapprehension, 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 requires new elements of life; happy he who can help to create them!--Unchangeably your faithful friend,
BUNSEN.
TO THE WIRKLICH GEHEIMRATH BUNSEN.
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 myself. I wish I may one day be able to express more clearly my gratitude for all your kindness and friendship! 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 performances of Æschylus’s “Eumenides,” to the King, to Graf Redern, and more particularly to Geheimrath Tieck,--I have declared that I consider this representation, and, above all, the composition of the choruses, a most difficult and perhaps impracticable problem, _but that I would nevertheless make the attempt to solve it_. I asked Herr Geheimrath 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 commission, 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 everywhere declared my entire readiness to attempt the composition, 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, thoroughly 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, 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 be 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 judgment 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 goodwill to be doubted, which I have already proved in the course of this year by the accomplishment of various very difficult tasks, which were demanded 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, 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,--because 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 that_, 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.” For 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 verbally mentioned to your Excellency already,--that my stay on such slippery ground, and under such perplexing circumstances, is impossible. But by this mode of
## acting, and this _alone_, can I hope, independently of momentary
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 indifferent, 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[72] 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 satisfactory execution! May this also be the case at all times 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 to attempt to strengthen it. Precisely owing to the heartfelt gratitude I entertain towards 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 myself, and to what I deem to be right, and feel to be right; so you must excuse me for not complying with this practice.[73] 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 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. Cécile 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 Cécile 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 live.
I am sitting here at the open window, looking into the garden at the children, who are playing with their “dear Johann.”[74] The omnibus to Königstein passes 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 No. 18, which is also called the Champagne Spring; the Herr Medicinalrath Thilenius; the list of visitors, which comes out every Saturday, as ‘Punch’ does with you; the walking-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!
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.
My visit to England was 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 quartett 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 all this the composition of the overture to “Athalia,” which, being excessively troublesome, was no slight task.[75]
You can gather from this how gay and stirring my life was. My chief aim--to do a service to the Philharmonic 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--the canker in its constitution--musical _rotten boroughs_, etc. But more of this and many other points when we 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 excitement 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 excitement! Here a walk of ten minutes brings you to the heights of the Taunus, with a view over the valleys of the Maine and Rhine, as far as Frankfort, Worms, and Mayence. Here I can look all around for days and days, and require nothing further, 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 refuse to come to Soden for a fortnight, to enjoy with me the incredible fascinations of this country and locality, all 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 improve every day in health, while I lie under apple-trees 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 Asmannshäuser 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 yesterday), who gives me the latest and best report of you all, and addresses me as General Music Director, which sounds as strange here as Oberursel, and Lorschbach, and Schneidheim would to you. Then towards evening I have visits from Lenau, and Hoffmann von Fallersleben, 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 prepared to do in the future. Further, I sketch busily, and compose still more busily. (_A propos_, look for the organ piece in A major, that I composed for your wedding, 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 re-writing 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 Zweibrücken,[76] and I don’t feel much disposed for this; still, there is first-rate wine at Dürkheim (as credible witnesses inform me), and I hear the country is very beautiful, and to-morrow week (God willing) I shall be here again, when I shall once more lie under the apple-trees, etc., _dal segno_. Ah! if this could go on for ever!
Jesting apart, the contrast of these days with my stay in England is so remarkable, that I can never forget it. The previous three weeks _not a single hour_ unoccupied, 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 _he_, and all of you. It is high time that Sebastian[77] should write me a letter. Read him these lines from his uncle (no other part of the letter; he ought to think it contained something 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 author; forget, however, the stupidity of this letter, and that I am such a lazy correspondent.--Your
FELIX.
TO FANNY HENSEL, BERLIN.
Soden, August 15th, 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 _bound_ music-book which lies 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 diligently, 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 Wiesbaden to-morrow, to visit Uncle Joseph; and the day after to Hamburg, also on foot, to attend Döhler’s concert. Prume is to call for me, and we are to go together. I heard Döhler and Piatti in their last concert 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 Frankfort, Wiesbaden, and Mayence offered to sing, and were present; but a letter came from the Amtmann in Königstein 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, I suspect, more or less tipsy,--shouting out loud _vivats_ 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 new 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 some days past such abominable weather, that this is 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 Altkönig looks too stern and gloomy. I must describe to you my journey back from Zweibrücken. 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 Vosges, 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 discharged. He then drove us another stage, where the proprietor of St. Johann took us under his charge, and gave us quarters for the night, and good wine; and next morning came another Zweibrückner 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 yourself, 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 Spasimo, and the great Roberts, and Winterhalter’s ‘Decameron;’ and a fine new grand pianoforte, by Streicher; and a pretty woman, who in autumn selects the
## particular grapes in the bunches to be used in making the wine,
which--but excuse the rest. Still, those who have not paid a visit to Herr Buhl (or to his brother-in-law, 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 Dürkheim; 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-quarters of a German mile) in twenty minutes, so that we might not arrive too late for dinner; and in Dürkheim 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!
[Illustration: musical notation]
This is the national song of the Palatinate, called “Der Jäger aus Kurpfalz.” It is sung the whole live-long day, blown on horns by postilions, played as a serenade 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 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 Richard Boeckh.) After the performance of “St. Paul,” he suddenly and unexpectedly emerged from among the public, and you may imagine with what joy I recognized my _Boccia_ comrade from the Leipziger Strasse, No. 3,[78] among all the strange faces; and, to use an expression 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 _métier_,--but no! I think I must continue 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, who 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 lips. Keep the whole of this letter strictly private from Sebastian; but thank him repeatedly from me for his nice letter. Tell him that I care very little about his No. 1, and that he ought not to be in any hurry to come to _Untersecunda_. 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 indeed 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 Red 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 VERHULST, 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 welcome 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 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 workshop 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 successful, 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-countrymen, many, many more must yet follow, and with ever-increasing progress. Vocation and endowments are your own. So, may Heaven grant you also health and steady perseverance, and a happy life!
This is the wish of your devoted
FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.
_From Minister Eichhorn,[79] to Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, at Frankfurt-am-Main._
Berlin, March 2nd, 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 Royal 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 fulfilling this design. The musical section of the Academy, 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 purpose, it is, in my opinion, above all expedient that a master should stand at the 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 _atelier_ 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 institutes, 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’œuvre_, as well as of the works of the scholars, and likewise for practice in conducting,--an arrangement 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 suggestions, 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 undertake the direction and the situation of teacher of composition, 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 superintend with success the situation in question, as it seems to me very desirable to discuss any further measures that may be necessary with the director selected for that section.--Accept, Sir, etc.,
EICHHORN.
TO MINISTER EICHHORN, BERLIN.
Frankfurt-am-M., March 6th, 1845.
I must first of all thank your Excellency for the flattering 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 commission 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 questions must retire into the background.
Is the reform which you have in view in the musical 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 relation will such a director assume to the former members 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 required. 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 departments strive towards the same point, when no actual deficiency is anywhere overlooked in the organization, and finally, when, as a key-stone, the corresponding impulses of this organization are combined and placed before the scholars in their practical application, 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 Excellency’s views, or indeed be within the range of possibility. Without this, the position, though undoubtedly highly honourable, would be devoid of all real, practical utility; a merely universal excitement, however great, can at best only call forth an unfruitful enthusiasm in the minds of the scholars, if indeed it calls forth anything 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 connection 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.[80]--Your devoted
FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.
_To Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, from the Geheim Cabinetsrath Müller._[81]
Berlin, March 5th, 1855.
It is proposed to set to music the choruses of the trilogy of “Agamemnon,” the “Choëphorœ,” and the “Eumenides,” to be combined and curtailed for performance. According to Tieck’s information, you declined the composition in this form. The King can scarcely believe this, as his Majesty distinctly remembers 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 accordance with your promise, gladly to comply with any wishes of his Majesty.--I am, Sir, your obedient,
MÜLLER.
TO GEHEIM CABINETSRATH MÜLLER, 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 “Choëphorœ,” and the “Eumenides.” His Majesty certainly was pleased to appoint me the task last winter of composing music for the choruses in Æschylus’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.[82]
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 extract a musical sense from these choruses, in order to render them suitable for composition, but I have not succeeded, and have only been enabled to fulfil the task in the case of one of them, in such a manner as is demanded 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 Æschylus 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 Æschylus 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 commands, are now ready for performance, namely, the “Œdipus Coloneus,” the “Athalie” of Racine, and the “Œdipus Rex” of Sophocles. The entire full scores of the two former are completed, first and last, so that nothing further is required for their representation, except the distribution of the parts to the actors and singers. The sketch of the “Œdipus 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 performing the task worthily; and to show that when I allow even one to remain unfulfilled, it arises solely from want of ability, and never from want of intention.
_Answer from Müller._
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 obliged to resign the great pleasure it would have caused his Majesty to see the Æschylus choruses composed 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.
TO I. MOSCHELES, LONDON.
Frankfort, March 7th, 1845.
My dear Friend,
It is so good and kind of you to write me a gossiping letter again, as in the good old times. I leave everything undone and untouched till I have answered you, and thanked 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 directing 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 public 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 influence 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 “Études” as duetts or solos, or in short something.
I much regret the affair with the _Handel Society_,[83] 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 his _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 discovering 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 be 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 all, 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 connected with all that I have considered right, during the whole course of my life, for me now to give it up.
André 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:--
[Illustration: musical notation]
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!
Give my kind remembrances to your family, and retain a kindly regard for your
FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.
TO REBECCA DIRICHLET, FLORENCE.
Frankfort, March 25th, 1845.
Dear 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! we have done with you for the present!” it also is celebrating 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 sweeter 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 Rhine, instead of diligences, etc. etc. From the above you will perceive, and Fanny also (for you must send _her_ all my letters to Rome), that, God 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 212 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 headache. Pray cut off this part before you send the letter to Rome; a younger sister may be entrusted 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 will 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 involved, 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 Düsseldorf they announced on the second day of the Musical Festival, Mozart’s “Requiem,” my “Walpurgis Nacht,” and finally Beethoven’s choral symphony. “O tempora! O mores!” If you ask what this letter contains, the answer is, that we are all well, and hope you are the same, and rejoice at the thoughts of our meeting again.--Your (in spring weather) very pleased
FELIX.
TO EMIL NAUMANN,
(NOW MUSIC DIRECTOR AT BERLIN.)
Leipzig, March, 1845.
Dear Herr Naumann,
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 efficiency. I consider these works in every
## particular preferable to your earlier ones, and consequently 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 affairs and occupations which crowd on me here, I can now less than ever find time to write. But it is not necessary, for throughout I see traces of the good advice of your present instructor,[84] and feel increased respect for him in consequence of your progress. You are certainly, with him, in the best hands possible; attend assiduously therefore to his advice, and take advantage of his instructions, and of the time 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; particularly 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 something new of yours.--Always yours sincerely,
FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.
TO SENATOR BERNUS, FRANKFORT.
Leipzig, October 10th, 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 permanently 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 agreeable 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 public just as it may suit me, then I shall assuredly return to the Rhine, and probably, according to my present idea, settle at Frankfort. The sooner I can do so, the more 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.
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!
TO PASTOR BAUER, BESZIG.
Leipzig, May 23rd, 1846.
Your kind letter and the book caused me great pleasure. 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 expressing 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 could attempt either verbally or in writing to maintain my own opinions 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 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 accomplish 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 _non_-theologians whom I often see, and who talk of reformation and of improvement, but who are equally incompetent to know or to comprehend either the present or the past, and who, in short, wish to introduce _dilettanteism_ into the highest questions.
I believe it is this very _dilettanteism_ which plays us many a trick, because it is of a twofold nature,--necessary, 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 self-sufficient. For instance, there are few artists for whom I feel so much respect, as for a genuine _dilettante_ of the first class, and for no single artist have I so little respect as for a _dilettante_ of the second class. But where am I wandering to?...
TO PASTOR JULIUS SCHUBRING, DESSAU.
Leipzig, May 23rd, 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 have now quite finished the first part, and six or eight numbers of the second are already written down. In various places, however, of the second