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 somany 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]
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 havehurtthe 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 leastexcited, 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 ofhere, 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 toanother artist, who, it seems, has promised to undertake the affair at once. You neithermustnorcanpermit 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 greatChorodidascalos, and knowing thathealone 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 anycurtailments 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.
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! Iknow 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 thelarge 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 thecomposition, 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 theattempt, and I should certainlynot be any hindrancein the matter. Indeed, with a view to facilitate the idea, I suggestedto himthat 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 feelingof 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 theshortesttime.
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 ideaswithout 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 goodopinion which I trust he still has of me;thenhe 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 agood 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 inmyposition as others do intheirs? 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 thisalone, 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 hopereallyto serve the King and his ideas. I cannot be an indifferent, doubtful, or secretly discontented servant to such a monarch; he could not employ methus, andthusI would not only be useless to him, but sacrifice myself.
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 ifI 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.
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-pasteight 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!
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 familyin 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; itis 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—musicalrotten 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.
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 composestill 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 weeksnot a single hourunoccupied, 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, andhe, 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.
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 aboundmusic-book which lies in “mycompartment,” and in which many similar pieces are bound together.I found the piece, however, in one of the two last winter, andstans 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 innumerablepeeping out of the windows of the inn,—all, I suspect, more or less tipsy,—shouting out loudvivatsto 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 landlorddrove 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 insistedon 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!
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 withabandon, 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 myBocciacomrade 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 mymétier,—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 toUntersecunda. When all numberones, 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 ofUntertertia, 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.
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 torise superiorto 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 memuch, 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.
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 Conservatoriumhere; 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 formusical 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 rightpath, in the very same way that in the plastic arts, the master of theatelierstands 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 classicalchefs-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.
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 theatelierin 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 acomposer, 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 anatelierdoes 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 wholeinnerconstitution 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.
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.
Frankfort, March 12th, 1845.
His Majesty the King never spoke to me on thesubject 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.
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.
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 thepublic 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 theHandel 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 hispianosandfortes, 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 fearmanyothers, 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:—