diff options
Diffstat (limited to '39384-h/39384-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | 39384-h/39384-h.htm | 13025 |
1 files changed, 13025 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/39384-h/39384-h.htm b/39384-h/39384-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..764de0b --- /dev/null +++ b/39384-h/39384-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13025 @@ + <!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + <html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" + content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg's eBook of Letters of Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy from Italy and and Switzerland, by Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy</title> + <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> + <style type="text/css"> + + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + + h1,h2 {text-align: center; + clear: both;} + + h3 {text-align: right; + font-size: 90%;} + + hr.c5 {width: 5%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.c15 {width: 15%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +.poetry-container +{ + text-align: center; + font-size: 95%; +} + +.poetry + { + display: inline-block; + text-align: left; + } + +.poetry .stanza +{ + margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em; +} + +.poetry .line +{ + margin: 0; + text-indent: -3em; + padding-left: 3em; +} + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + right: 5%; + font-size: 0.6em; + font-variant: normal; + font-style: normal; + text-align: right; + background-color: #FFFACD; + border: 1px solid; + padding: 0.3em; + } /* page numbers */ + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px; background-color: #F0FFFF} + .footnote {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .6em; text-decoration: none; + font-style: normal;} + + .box {margin: auto; + text-align: center; + border: 1px solid; + padding: 1em; + background-color: #F0FFFF; + width: 25em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 90%;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .p2 {margin-top: 2em;} + .p4 {margin-top: 4em;} + + .small {font-size: small;} + .medium {font-size: medium;} + .xlarge {font-size: x-large;} + + .font90 {font-size: 90%;} + .right { text-align: right; clear: both; margin-left: 25%; width: 75%; } + +@media screen +{ + body + { + width: 90%; + max-width: 45em; + margin: auto; + } + p + { + margin-top: .75em; + margin: 0.75em auto; + text-align: justify; + } +} + +@media print, handheld +{ + p + { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .poetry + { + margin: 0.5em; + display: block; + } + + .smcap + { + text-transform: uppercase; + font-size: 80%; + } + + hr.c5 + { + width: 5%; + margin-left: 47.5%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + + hr.c15 + { + width: 15%; + margin-left: 37.5%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } +} + +@media handheld +{ + body + { + margin: 0; + padding: 0; + width: 95%; + } + + a:link, + a:visited + { + color: black; + } +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Letters of Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy from +Italy and Switzerland, by Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Letters of Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy from Italy and Switzerland + +Author: Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy + +Release Date: April 5, 2012 [EBook #39384] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LETTERS OF FELIX MENDELSSOHN *** + + + + +Produced by Hélène de Mink, Bryan Ness, Music transcribed +by Anne Celnick, Linda Cantoni, and the DP Music Team and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive/American +Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="p2 box"> +<p>Transcriber's note: Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the +original document have been preserved. Obvious typographical errors +have been corrected.</p> +</div> + +<h1 class="p4"><span class="xlarge">LETTERS</span><br /> +<span class="small">OF</span><br /> +FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY<br /> +<span class="small">FROM</span><br /> +<span class="medium">ITALY AND SWITZERLAND.</span></h1> + +<p class="p2 center">TRANSLATED BY LADY WALLACE.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="small">WITH A BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">By</span> JULIE DE MARGUERITTES.</p> + +<div class="p2 figcenter"> +<img src="images/logo.jpg" width="100" height="157" alt="logo" /> +</div> + +<p class="p4 center">BOSTON:<br /> +OLIVER DITSON — CO., 277 WASHINGTON STREET.<br /> +NEW YORK: C. H. DITSON — CO.</p> + +<p><a id="Page_I"></a></p> + +<h2 class="p4">FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.</h2> + +<p class="p2">Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy was born at +Hamburg, on the third of February, 1809. The name +to which he was destined to add such lustre, was +already high in the annals of fame. Moses Mendelssohn, +his grandfather, a great Jewish philosopher, +one of the most remarkable men of his time, was the +author of profound Metaphysical works, written both +in German and Hebrew. To this great power of +intellect, Moses Mendelssohn added a purity and +dignity of character worthy of the old stoics. The +epigraph on the bust of this ancestor of the composer, +shows the esteem in which he was held by his +contemporaries:</p> + +<p>"Faithful to the religion of his fathers, as wise +as Socrates, like Socrates teaching the immortality +of the soul, and like Socrates leaving a name that is +immortal."</p> + +<p>One of Moses Mendelssohn's daughters married +Frederick Schlegel, and swerving from the religion +in which both had been brought up, both became +Roman Catholics.</p> + +<p>Joseph Mendelssohn, the eldest son of this great +old man, was also distinguished for his literary taste, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_II"> II</a></span> +and has left two excellent works of very different +characters, one on Dante, the other on the system of +a paper currency.</p> + +<p>In conjunction with his brother, Abraham, he +founded the banking-house of Mendelssohn — Company +at Berlin, still flourishing under the management +of the sons of the original founders, the +brothers and cousins of Felix, the subject of this +memoir.</p> + +<p>George Mendelssohn the son of Joseph, was +also a distinguished political writer and Professor +in the University at Bonn.</p> + +<p>With such an array of intellectual ancestry, the +Mendelssohn of our day came into the world at +Hamburg, on the third of February,1809. He was +named Felix, and a more appropriate name could +not have been found for him, for in character, circumstance +and endowment, he was supremely happy. +Goethe, speaking of him, said "the boy was born +on a lucky day." His first piece of good fortune, +was in having not only an excellent virtuous woman +for his mother, but a woman who, besides these +qualities, possessed extraordinary intellect and had +received an education that fitted her to be the +mother of children endowed as hers were. She +professed the Lutheran creed, in which her children +were brought up. Being of a distinguished commercial +family and an heiress, her husband added her +name of Bartholdy to his own. Mme. Mendelssohn +Bartholdy's other children were, Fanny her first-born, +whose life is entirely interwoven with that of +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_III"> III</a></span> +her brother Felix, and Paul and Rebecca, born some +years later.</p> + +<p>When yet a boy, Felix removed with his parents +to Berlin, probably at the time of the formation of +the banking house. The Prussian capital has often +claimed the honor of being his birthplace, but that +distinction really belongs to Hamburg.</p> + +<p>His extraordinary musical talent was not long in +developing itself. His sister Fanny, his "soul's +friend" and constant companion, almost as richly +endowed as himself, aroused his emulation, and they +studied music together first as an art, and then as a +science, to be the foundation of future works of inspiration +and genius.</p> + +<p>Zelter, severe and classic, profoundly scientific, +inexorable for all that was not true science, became +the teacher of these two gifted children in composition +and in counterpoint. For piano-forte playing, +Berger was the professor, though some years +later Moscheles added the benefit of his counsels, +and Felix was fond of calling himself the pupil of +Moscheles, with whom in after life he contracted a +close friendship. Zelter was exceedingly proud of +his pupil, soon discovering that instead of an industrious +and intelligent child, one of the greatest +musical geniuses ever known was dawning on the +world. When he was but fifteen, Zelter took the +young musician to Weimar, and secured for him the +acquaintance and good will of Goethe, which as +long as Goethe lived, seemed to be the necessary +consecration of all talent in Germany. By this time +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_IV"> IV</a></span> +not only was he an admirable performer on the +piano, possessed of a talent for improvisation and a +memory so wonderful, that not only could he play +almost all Bach, Händel, Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven +by heart, but he could also without hesitation +accompany a whole opera from memory, provided he +had but seen the score once. The overture to Midsummer +Night's Dream, so popular now in every country, +was composed before he was seventeen, and was +played for the first time as a duet on the piano by +his sister Fanny and himself on the 19th November, +1826. This is indeed the inspiration of youth with +its brilliancy, its buoyancy, its triumphant joy, full +of the poetry of a young heart, full of the imagination +of a mind untainted by the world. It was not +till some years after, that Mendelssohn completed +the music to Shakspeare's great play. In 1827, +Felix left the University of Berlin with great honors. +He was a profound classical scholar, and has left as +a specimen of his knowledge, a correct, graceful and +elegant translation of Terence's comedy of Andria, +a work greatly approved of by Goethe. He excelled +in gymnastics, was an elegant rider, and like Lord +Byron, a bold and accomplished swimmer. The year +he left the University, he went to England, where +Henrietta Sonntag was in the height of her fame. +He played in several concerts where she sang, as +well as with Moscheles, his old friend and teacher, +now established in London.</p> + +<p>On his return to Germany in 1830, he visited +Goethe at Weimar, and there planned his journey +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_V"> V</a></span> +to Italy, a country which all men of genius yearn +after, as the promised land of inspiration. When +in Rome, Felix Mendelssohn began the grand Cantata +of the Walpurgis Night, to Goethe's words, at +which he worked for some years. On his return +from his travels, Mendelssohn, who had now all the +assurance and self-possession of an artist, was appointed +chapel-master at Düsseldorf, a position which +gave him the direction of the grand musical festivals +held at that time in this city and in Aix-la-Chapelle. +It was during his residence in Düsseldorf, that he +composed his oratorio of St. Paul, and also, the +first set of his "Songs without Words" for the piano, +where the music, by its varied expression and its +intensity, alone told the story of the poet. These +compositions were a novelty for piano-forte players, +and inaugurated a new style, full of interest, gradually +setting aside the variations and sonatas which +had become so meaningless and tedious. The oratorio +of St. Paul was not given until 1836, when it was +produced at Düsseldorf, under his own special superintendence. +Mendelssohn composed very rapidly, +but he was cautious in giving his works to the +public, until they thoroughly satisfied his judgment, +the most critical to which they could be submitted.</p> + +<p>In the latter part of 1836, having gone to Frankfort, +to direct a concert of the Ceciliaverein, he +became acquainted with Cecilia Jeanrenaud, a beautiful +and accomplished girl, the second daughter of +a clergyman of the Reformed Church, and in the +spring of 1837 she became his wife. The marriage +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_VI"> VI</a></span> +had been delayed some months by Mendelssohn's +ill health; he had begun to feel the first symptoms +of the nervous disease, affecting the brain, +from which he was destined henceforth to suffer, +and of which, finally, he was fated to die.</p> + +<p>After his marriage he undertook the direction of +the Leipzig Concerts. All over Germany, Mendelssohn +was in requisition; his immense genius as a +composer, his great skill as a conductor, his gentle, +fascinating manners, gave him extraordinary popularity. +It was England, however, after all, who +appreciated him most. Sacred music seems to appeal +especially to the English taste. Haydn, Händel, +Beethoven have all found more patronage and appreciation +in England than in their own country. So it +was with Mendelssohn; the greatest musical triumph +ever achieved, was the performance of the oratorio +of Elijah, given at Birmingham, the work on which +Mendelssohn's fame will rest. He was nine years +in composing this oratorio; and notwithstanding the +most flattering ovation, Mendelssohn's serene temperament +was not moved to vanity or conceit. In +the very moment of his success, he sat down modestly +to correct many things that had not satisfied +him. The trio for three female voices (without accompaniment) +one of the most beautiful pieces in +the oratorio, was added by the composer after the +public had declared itself satisfied with the work +as it originally stood. Elijah was produced in 1847, +but Mendelssohn had been several times to England +before this, playing at the ancient and Philharmonic +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_VII"> VII</a></span> +concerts; at that time, the resort of the élite in +London.</p> + +<p>It was during one of these visits in 1842, that +Prince Albert, who as a German and a musician, +had sought his acquaintance, introduced him to +Queen Victoria. The visit was entirely devoid of +formality, for without any previous announcement, +the Prince conducted Mendelssohn from his private +apartments, to the Queen's study, where they found +her surrounded by papers, and just terminating her +morning's work. The Queen receiving him most +graciously, apologized to the composer for the untidiness +of the room, beginning herself to put it in +order and laughingly accepting his assistance. After +some agreeable conversation Mendelssohn sat down +to the piano and played whatever the Queen asked +of him. When at length he rose, Prince Albert +asked the Queen to sing, and gracefully choosing +one of Mendelssohn's own compositions, she complied +with the request. Mendelssohn of course +applauded, but the Queen laughingly told him, that +she had been too frightened to sing well. "Ask +Lablache," (Lablache was her singing master) added +the Queen, "he will tell you that I can sing better +than I have done to-day." Prince Albert and the +Queen were ever warm patrons and friends of +Mendelssohn.</p> + +<p>During all this time so brilliantly filled up, Mendelssohn's +health was continually and gradually declining. +His nervous susceptibility was such that +he was often obliged to abstain from playing for +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_VIII"> VIII</a></span> +weeks together, his gentle and affectionate wife +watching him and keeping him as much as possible +from composition. This was a very difficult task, +for Mendelssohn was a great worker. Even when +travelling, he would take out pen and ink from his +pocket and compose at one corner of the table, +whilst the dinner was getting ready.</p> + +<p>Little was Mendelssohn prepared, either mentally +or physically at this time, to bear the one great +sorrow that overwhelmed this happy life, on which +the sun of prosperity had ever shone. His sister +Fanny, to whom many of his letters were written, +and who had been the companion of his studies, +possessing the same tastes and a great deal of the +same genius; his sister Fanny, who was the nearest +and dearest affection of his life, was suddenly taken +from him. She had married and was living in Frankfort, +where she was the ornament of society, in this +enlightened and art-loving city, when in the midst +of a rehearsal of Faust, a symphony of her own +composition, she was struck with apoplexy and fell +back dead in her chair. There is no doubt that this +shock considerably increased the disease from which +Mendelssohn was suffering, and though he used to +rally and even appear resigned, this sorrow, until the +day of his death, lay heavy at his heart. Again he +tried to find health and peace in travel; he went to +Switzerland with his wife, who strove to keep him +from all occupation and labor, but he would gently +urge her to let him work. "The time is not far off, +when I shall rest; I must make the most of the time +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_IX"> IX</a></span> +given me." "I know not how short a time it may +be," would he say to her. On his return from Switzerland +and Baden-Baden, he went to Berlin; and once +more all that remained of this tenderly attached +family, were united for a short time. At length he +returned to his home in Leipzig, serene as ever, but +worn to a shadow by the acute and continued pains +in the head for which he could obtain no relief. On +the 9th of October, he went to the house of a friend, +one of the artists of the Leipzig concerts, and entreated +her to sing for him a song he had that +night composed. By a strange coincidence, this +song began with these words, "Vanished has the +light of day." It was Mendelssohn's last composition, +the last music he heard on earth, for whilst the +lady was singing it, he was seized with vertigo and +was carried insensible back to his house. He recovered, +however, comparatively from this attack, +but a second stroke of apoplexy placed his life in +extreme peril, and a third, on the 3rd of November, +made him utterly unconscious. Towards nine o'clock +on the evening of the 4th, (1847,) he breathed his +last, going to his everlasting rest as easily and as +calmly as a tired child sinks to sleep. He was in +the thirty-ninth year of his age.</p> + +<p>Mendelssohn's death was looked upon, throughout +Germany, as a public calamity. The funeral ceremonies +at Leipzig were of a most imposing character, +and all the way from Leipzig to Berlin, where the +corpse was taken, to be buried in the family vault, +the most touching honors greeted it. Nearly all the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_X"> X</a></span> +crowned heads of Europe wrote letters of condolence +to his widow.</p> + +<p>Mendelssohn as a musician is profoundly original. +In his oratorios "Paul" and "Elijah" he has swerved +from the conventional religious style; eschewing all +fugues, his oratorios are full of power, and contain +great dramatic effects—at once grand and solemn. +His other music is remarkable for the sweetness of +its melodies—its earnest simplicity. His instrumentality +is scientific without being pedantic or heavy, +and utterly devoid of antiquated formalism; though +pathetic often, there is always a vigor and life in +all his inspirations; the low mournful wail that runs +through all Chopin's works, arising from a morbid +condition of health and heart, is never felt in Mendelssohn. +There is none of the bitterness, the long +suffering that artists' lives entail and that artists +infuse into their works, for Mendelssohn was a +happy man from first to last.</p> + +<p>Mendelssohn the happy, "the boy born on a lucky +day," has left a life-record that amid the gloomy +heart-rending and often degrading histories of artists, +shines with a chaste and holy life. Nature, +the world and circumstance had done every thing +for him. To the great and all-sufficient gift of his +musical genius he added many others,—he had the +eye of a painter, the heart of a poet, his intellect was +of the highest order; he was tall, handsome, graceful, +his social position one of the finest in Berlin, rich, +and surrounded by the tenderest family affections. +With all these advantages, with all the success +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_XI"> XI</a></span> +that attended him, with all the flattery lavished on +him, Mendelssohn was never vain or proud, and +throughout his life was utterly free from envy. His +fine, fearless, childlike spirit, led him through the +world, unconscious of evil, undaunted by it. With +all the temptations that must have assailed the +young, handsome, rich man, there is not one moment +of his life over which his friends would wish to draw +a veil. On such a life as that of Felix Mendelssohn, +it is good for every one to look, for once, genius +is not set forth as a dazzling screen to hide and to +excuse disorder and crime, but genius, that one +great gift from heaven, was employed as heaven +would have directed it, each action, each succeeding +year of his life, bringing forth in various but harmonious +ways, that extraordinary moral and intellectual +worth, that rare beauty of character that +endeared him to all who knew him, ensured him +the unvarying love of kindred and friends, and the +admiration of the whole world.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_XII"> XII</a></span></p> +<p><a id="Page_XIII"></a></p> + +<h2 class="p4">PREFACE.</h2> + +<p class="p4">Last year a paragraph was inserted in the newspapers, +requesting any one who possessed letters +from Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy to send them to +Professor Droysen, or to myself, with the view of +completing a selection from his correspondence +which we contemplated publishing. Our design in +this was twofold.</p> + +<p>In the first place, we wished to offer to the public +in Mendelssohn's own words, which always so truly +and faithfully mirrored his thoughts, the most genuine +impression of his character; and secondly, we +thought that the biographical elements contained +in such a correspondence, might be of infinite use +in the compilation of a memoir—which we reserve +for a future day—and serve as its precursor and +basis.</p> + +<p>There are difficulties, however, opposed to the +immediate fulfilment of our original purpose to its +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_XIV"> XIV</a></span> +full extent; and at present it is impossible to decide +when these can be removed.</p> + +<p>I have, therefore, formed the resolution to carry +out my plan in the meantime within more circumscribed +limits, but which leaves me unfettered.</p> + +<p>On Mendelssohn's return from his first visit to +England, in the year 1829, he came to Berlin for a +short time to attend a family festivity, and thence +in 1830 proceeded to Italy, returning through +Switzerland to France, and in the beginning of +1832 visiting England for the second time.</p> + +<p>This period, which to a certain degree forms a +separate section of his life, and which, through the +vivid impressions it made, assuredly exercised an +important influence on Mendelssohn's development +(we may mention that he was only one-and-twenty +at the commencement of his journey), supplies us +with a number of letters addressed to his parents, +and to his sisters, Fanny and Rebecca, as well as to +myself. I have also added some communications of +the same date, to various friends, partly entire and +partly in extracts, and now present them to the +public in their original integrity.</p> + +<p>Those who were personally acquainted with Mendelssohn, +and who wish once more to realize him as +he was when in life,—and those also who would be +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_XV"> XV</a></span> +glad to acquire a more definite idea of his individuality +than can be found in the general inferences +deduced from his musical creations,—will not lay +down these letters dissatisfied. Along with this +particular source of interest they offer a more universal +one, as they prove how admirably Mendelssohn's +superior nature, and perceptions of Art, +mutually pervaded and regulated each other.</p> + +<p>With this view, it appeared to me a duty to give +to the public these letters, stored up in the peaceful +home for which they were originally destined and +exclusively intended, and thus to make them accessible +to a more extended circle. They begin by a +visit to Goethe. May his words then accompany +these Letters, as an appropriate convoy:—</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">Be sure the works of mighty men,</div> +<div class="line">The good, the faithful, the sublime,</div> +<div class="line">Stored in the gallery of Time,</div> +<div class="line">Repose awhile—to wake again."<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></div> +</div></div></div> + +<p class=" right smcap">Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Berlin</span>, <i>March</i>, 1861.</p> + +<p><a id="Page_XVI"></a></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_1"> 1</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="p4">LETTERS.</h2> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Weimar, May 21st, 1830.</h3> + +<p>Never, in the whole course of my travels, do I +remember a more glorious and inspiriting day for a +journey than yesterday. At an early hour in the +morning the sky was grey and cloudy, but the sun +presently burst forth; the air was cool and fresh, +and being Ascension Sunday the people were all +dressed in their best. In one village I saw them +crowding into church as I passed, in another coming +away from divine service, and, last of all, playing +at bowls. The gardens were bright with tulips, and +I drove quickly past, eagerly looking at everything. +At Weissenfels they gave me a little basket carriage, +and at Naumburg an open droschky. My +effects, including my hat and cloak, were piled +upon it behind. I bought a few bunches of lilies-of-the-valley, +and thus I travelled on through the +country, as if on a pleasure excursion.</p> + +<p>Some collegians came up to me beyond Naumburg, +and envied me. We then drove past President +G——, seated in a small carriage, which +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2"> 2</a></span> +evidently had some difficulty in containing him, and +his daughters or <em>wives</em>; in short, the two ladies +with him, who appeared equally envious of my +position. We actually <em>trotted</em> up the Kösen Hill, +for the horses scarcely drew bridle, and overtook +several heavily-laden carriages, the drivers of which +no doubt also envied me, for I was really to be +envied. The scenery had a charming air of spring—so +cheerful and gay, and blooming. The sun sank +solemnly behind the hills, and presently we came up +with the Russian minister and his suite, in two +heavy carriages, each with four horses, in true +ponderous official array; and my light droschky +darted past him like a hare.</p> + +<p>In the evening I got a pair of restive horses, so +that I had my little annoyance also, (according to +my theory, enhancing pleasure,) and not a single +bar did I compose all day, but enjoyed complete +idleness. It was a delicious day, and one I shall +not soon forget. I close this description with the +remark, that the children in Eckartsberge dance +merry rounds hand-in-hand, just as ours do at home, +and that the appearance of a stranger did not in +the least disturb them, in spite of his distinguished +air; I should have liked to join in their game.</p> + +<h3>May 24th.</h3> + +<p>I wrote this before going to see Goethe, early in +the forenoon, after a walk in the park; but I could +not find a moment to finish my letter till now. I +shall probably remain here for a couple of days, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_3"> 3</a></span> +which is no sacrifice, for I never saw the old gentleman +so cheerful and amiable as on this occasion, or +so talkative and communicative. My especial reason +however for staying two days longer, is a very +agreeable one, and makes me almost vain, or I +ought rather to say proud, and I do not intend to +keep it secret from you,—Goethe, you must know, +sent me a letter yesterday addressed to an artist +here, a painter, which I am to deliver myself; and +Ottilie confided to me that it contains a commission +to take my portrait, as Goethe wishes to place it in a +collection of likenesses he has recently commenced +of his friends. This circumstance gratified me exceedingly; +as however I have not yet seen the +complaisant artist who is to accomplish this, nor has +he seen me, it is probable that I shall have to remain +here until the day after to-morrow. I don't in the +least regret this, for, as I have told you, I live a +most agreeable life here, and thoroughly enjoy the +society of the old poet. I have dined with him +every day, and am invited again to-day. This evening +there is to be a party at his house, where I am +to play. It is quite delightful to hear him conversing +on every subject, and seeking information on +all points.</p> + +<p>I must however tell you everything regularly and +in order, so that you may know each separate detail.</p> + +<p>Early in the day I went to see Ottilie, who, though +still delicate, and often complaining, I thought +more cheerful than formerly, and quite as kind and +amiable as ever towards myself. We have been +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4"> 4</a></span> +constantly together since then, and it has been a +source of much pleasure to me to know her more +intimately. Ulrike is more agreeable and charming +than formerly; a certain earnestness pervades her +whole nature, and she has now a degree of repose, +and a depth of feeling, that render her one of the +most attractive creatures I have ever met. The +two boys, Walter and Wolf, are lively, studious, +cordial lads, and to hear them talking about +"Grandpapa's Faust," is most pleasant.</p> + +<p>But to return to my narrative. I sent Zelter's +letter at once to Goethe, who immediately invited +me to dinner. I thought him very little changed +in appearance, but at first rather silent and apathetic; +I think he wished to see how I demeaned +myself. I was vexed, and thought that possibly he +was always now in this mood. Happily the conversation +turned on the <em>Frauen-Vereine</em> in Weimar, and +on the 'Chaos,' a humorous paper circulated among +themselves by the ladies here, I having soared so +high as to be a contributor to this undertaking. +All at once the old man became quite gay, laughing +at the two ladies about their charities and intellectualism, +and their subscriptions and hospital work, +which he seems cordially to detest. He called on +me to aid him in his onslaught, and as I did not +require to be asked twice, he speedily became just +what he used to be, and at last more kind and confidential +than I had ever seen him. The assault +soon became general. The 'Robber Bride' of Ries, +he said contained all that an artist in these days +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5"> 5</a></span> +required to live happily,—a robber and a bride; +then he attacked the young people of the present +day for their universal tendency to languor and +melancholy, and related the story of a young lady +to whom he had once paid court, and who also felt +some interest in him; a discussion on the exhibitions +followed, and a fancy bazaar for the poor, +where the ladies of Weimar were the shopwomen, +and where he declared it was impossible to purchase +anything because the young people made a private +agreement among themselves, and hid the different +articles till the proper purchasers appeared.</p> + +<p>After dinner he all at once began—"Gute Kinder—hübsche +Kinder—muss immer lustig sein—tolles +Volk," etc., his eyes looking like those of a +drowsy old lion. Then he begged me to play to +him, and said it seemed strange that he had heard +no music for so long; that he supposed we had +made great progress, but he knew nothing of it. +He wished me to tell him a great deal on the +subject, saying "Do let us have a little rational +conversation together;" and turning to Ottilie, he +said, "No doubt you have already made your own +wise arrangements, but they must yield to my +express orders, which are, that you must make tea +here this evening, that we may be all together +again." When in return she asked him if it would +not make him too late, as Riemer was coming to +work with him, he replied, "As you gave your children +a holiday from their Latin to-day, that they +might hear Felix play, I think you might also give +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"> 6</a></span> +me one day of relaxation from <em>my</em> work." He +invited me to return to dinner, and I played a great +deal to him in the evening.</p> + +<p>My three Welsh pieces, dedicated to three English +sisters, have great success here;<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> and I am +trying to rub up my English. As I had begged +Goethe to address me as <em>thou</em>, he desired Ottilie to +say to me on the following day, in that case I must +remain longer than the two days I had fixed, otherwise +he could not regain the more familiar habit I +wished. He repeated this to me himself, saying that +he did not think I should lose much by staying a +little longer, and invited me always to dine with +him when I had no other engagement. I have consequently +been with him every day, and yesterday I +told him a great deal about Scotland, and Hengstenberg, +and Spontini, and Hegel's 'Æsthetics.'<a name="FNanchor_3" id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> He +sent me to Tiefurth with the ladies, but prohibited +my driving to Berka, because a very pretty girl lived +there, and he did not wish to plunge me into misery.</p> + +<p>I thought to myself, this was indeed the Goethe +of whom people will one day say, that he was not +one single individual, but consisted of several little +<em>Goethiden</em>. I am to play over to him to-day various +pieces of Bach, Haydn, and Mozart, and thus lead +him on, as he said, to the present day +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"> 7</a></span> +I should indeed have been very foolish to have +regretted my delay; besides, I am a conscientious +traveller, and have seen the Library, and 'Iphigenia +in Aulis.' Hummel has struck out all the octaves, +etc.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Weimar, May 25th, 1830.</h3> + +<p>I have just received your welcome letter, written +on Ascension Day. I cannot help myself, but must +still write to you from this place. I will soon send +you, dear Fanny, a copy of my symphony; I am +having it written out here, and mean to forward it +to Leipzig (where perhaps it will be performed), +with strict orders to deliver it into your own hands, +as soon as possible. Try to collect opinions as to +the title I ought to select; Reformation Symphony, +Confession Symphony, Symphony for a Church Festival, +Juvenile Symphony, or whatever you like. +Write to me on this subject, and instead of a number +of stupid suggestions, send me one clever one; +still, I should rather like to hear some of the +nonsensical ones sure to be devised on the occasion.</p> + +<p>Yesterday evening I was at a party at Goethe's, +and played alone the whole evening,—the Concert-Stück, +the Invitation à la Valse, and Weber's Polonaise +in C, my three Welsh pieces, and my Scotch +Sonata. It was over by ten o'clock, but I of course +stayed till twelve o'clock, when we had all sorts of +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"> 8</a></span> +fun, dancing and singing; so you see I lead a most +jovial life here. The old gentleman goes to his +room regularly at nine o'clock, and as soon as he is +gone, we begin our frolics, and never separate +before midnight.</p> + +<p>To-morrow my portrait is to be finished; a large +black-crayon sketch, and very like; but I look +rather sulky. Goethe is so friendly and kind to me, +that I don't know how to thank him sufficiently, or +what to do to deserve it. In the forenoon he likes +me to play to him the compositions of the various +great masters, in chronological order, for an hour, +and also tell him the progress they have made, +while he sits in a dark corner, like a <em>Jupiter tonans</em>, +his old eyes flashing on me. He did not wish to +hear anything of Beethoven's, but I told him that +I could not let him off, and played the first part of +the Symphony in C minor. It seemed to have a +singular effect on him; at first he said, "This +causes no emotion, nothing but astonishment: it is +<em>grandios</em>." He continued grumbling in this way, +and after a long pause he began again,—"It is very +grand, very wild; it makes one fear that the house +is about to fall down; and what must it be when +played by a number of men together!" During +dinner, in the midst of another subject, he alluded +to it again. You know that I dine with him every +day, when he questions me very minutely, and is +always so gay and communicative after dinner, that +we generally remain together alone for an hour +while he speaks on uninterruptedly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"> 9</a></span> +I have no greater pleasure than when he brings +out engravings, and explains them to me, or gives +his opinion of Ernani, or Lamartine's Elegies, or +the theatre, or pretty girls. He has several times +lately invited people, which he rarely does now, +so that most of the guests had not seen him +for a long time. I then play a great deal, and he +compliments me before all these people, and "<em>ganz +stupend</em>" is his favourite expression. To-day he +has invited a number of Weimar beauties on my +account, because he thinks that I ought to enjoy +the society of young people. If I go up to him on +such occasions, he says, "My young friend, you +must join the ladies, and make yourself agreeable +to them." I am not however devoid of tact, so I +contrived to have him asked yesterday whether I +did not come too often; but he growled out to +Ottilie, who put the question to him, that "he must +now begin to speak to me in good earnest, for I had +such clear ideas, that he hoped to <em>learn much from +me</em>." I became twice as tall in my own estimation, +when Ottilie repeated this to me. He said so to +me himself yesterday; and when he declared that +there were many subjects he had at heart that I +must explain to him, I <em>said</em>, "Oh, certainly!" but +I <em>thought</em>, "This is an honour I can never forget,"—often +it is the very reverse.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"> 10</a></span></p> + +<h3>Munich, June 6th, 1830.</h3> + +<p>It is a long time since I have written to you, and +I fear you may have been anxious on my account. +You must not be angry with me, for it was really +no fault of mine, and I have been not a little annoyed +about it. I expedited my journey as well as +I could, inquiring everywhere about diligences, and +invariably receiving false information. I travelled +through one night on purpose to enable me to +write to you by this day's post, of which I was told +at Nürnberg; and when at last I arrive, I find that +no post leaves here to-day: it is enough to drive +one wild, and I feel out of all patience with Germany +and her petty Principalities, her different +kinds of money, her diligences, which require an +hour and a quarter for a German mile, and her +Thuringian forests, where there is incessant rain +and wind,—nay, even with her 'Fidelio' this very +evening, for, though dead beat, I must do my duty +by going to see it, when I would far rather go to bed. +Pray do not be angry with me, or scold me for my +delay in writing; I do assure you that this very +night while I was travelling, I thought I saw peeping +through the clouds the shadow of your threatening +finger; but I shall now proceed to explain +why I could not write sooner.</p> + +<p>Some days after my last letter from Weimar, I +wished, as I told you, to set off for this place, and +said so during dinner to Goethe, who made no +reply. After dinner however he withdrew with +Ottilie into the recess of a window, and said, "You +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"> 11</a></span> +must persuade him to remain." She endeavoured to +prevail on me to do so, and walked up and down in +the garden with me. I wished however to show +that I was a man of determination, so I remained +steady to my resolve. Then came the old gentleman +himself, and said he saw no use in my being in +such a hurry; that he had still a great deal to tell +me, and I had still a great deal to play to him; and +what I had told him as to the object of my journey, +was really all nonsense,—Weimar was my present object,—and +he could not see that I was likely to find +in <em>tables-d'hôte</em> elsewhere, what I could not obtain +here: I would see plenty of hotels in my travels. +He talked on in this style, which touched my heart, +especially as Ottilie and Ulrike added their persuasions, +assuring me that the old gentleman much +more often insisted on people going away, than on +their remaining; and as no one can be so sure of +enjoying a number of happy days, that he can +afford to throw away those that cannot fail to be +pleasant, and as they promised to go with me to +Jena, I resolved <em>not</em> to be a man of determination, +and agreed to stay.</p> + +<p>Seldom in the course of my life have I so little +regretted any resolution as on this occasion, for the +following day was by far the most delightful that I +ever passed in Goethe's house. After an early +drive, I found old Goethe very cheerful; he began +to converse on various subjects, passing from the +'Muette de Portici' to Walter Scott, and thence to +the beauties in Weimar; to the 'Students,' and the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"> 12</a></span> +'Robbers,' and so on to Schiller; then he spoke on +uninterruptedly for more than an hour, with the +utmost animation, about Schiller's life and writings, +and his position in Weimar. He proceeded to +speak of the late Grand-Duke, and of the year 1775, +which he designated as the intellectual spring of +Germany, declaring that no man living could describe +it so well as he could; indeed, it had been +his intention to have devoted the second volume of +his life to this subject; but what with botany, and +meteorology, and other stuff of the same kind, for +which no one cared a straw, he had not yet been +able to fulfil his purpose. He proceeded to relate +various anecdotes of the time when he was director +of the theatre, and when I wished to thank him, he +said, "It is mere chance, it all comes to light +incidentally,—called forth by your welcome presence." +These words sounded marvellously pleasant +to me; in short, it was one of those conversations +that a man can never forget so long as he lives. +Next day he made me a present of a sheet of the +manuscript of 'Faust,' and at the bottom of the +page he wrote, "To my dear young friend F. M. B., +mighty, yet delicate master of the piano—a friendly +souvenir of happy May days in 1830. J. W. von +Goethe." He also gave me three letters of introduction +to take with me.</p> + +<p>If that relentless 'Fidelio' did not begin at so +early an hour. I could tell you much more, but as it +is, I have only time to detail my farewell interview +with the old gentleman. At the very beginning of +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"> 13</a></span> +my visit to Weimar, I spoke of a print taken from +Adrian von Ostade, of a peasant family praying, +which nine years ago made a deep impression on +me. When I went at an early hour to take leave of +Goethe, I found him seated beside a large portfolio, +and he said, "So you are actually going away? I +must try to keep all right till you return; but at all +events we won't part now without some pious +feelings, so let us once more look at the praying +family together." He told me that I must sometimes +write to him—(courage! courage! I mean to +do so from this very place), and then he embraced +me, and we drove off to Jena, where the Frommans +received me with much kindness, and where the +same evening I took leave of Ottilie and Ulrike, +and came on here.</p> + +<p><em>Nine o'clock.</em>—'Fidelio' is over; and while waiting +for supper I add a few words.</p> + +<p>Schechner is very much gone off; the quality of +her voice has become husky; she repeatedly sang +flat, yet there were moments when her expression +was so touching, that I wept in my own fashion; all +the others were bad, and there was also much to +censure in the performance. Still, there is great +talent in the orchestra, and the style in which they +played the overture was very good. Certainly our +Germany is a strange land; producing great people, +but not appreciating them; possessing many fine +singers and intellectual artists, but none sufficiently +modest and subordinate to render their parts faithfully, +and without false pretension. Marzeline introduces +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"> 14</a></span> +all sorts of flourishes into her part; Jaquino +is a blockhead; the minister a simpleton: and when a +German like Beethoven writes an opera, then comes +a German like Stuntz or Poissl (or whoever it may +have been) and strikes out the ritournelle, and +similar unnecessary passages; another German adds +a trombone part to his symphonies; a third declares +that Beethoven is overloaded: and thus is a great +man sacrificed.</p> + +<p>Farewell! be happy and merry; and may all my +heartfelt wishes for you be fulfilled.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<p class="smcap">To Fanny Hensel.</p> + +<h3>Munich, June 14th, 1830.</h3> + +<p>My dearest Sister,</p> + +<p>I received your letter of the 5th this morning; I +see from it that you are not yet quite well. I wish +I were with you, and could see you, and talk to +you; but this is impossible, so I have written a +song for you expressive of my wishes and thoughts. +You were in my mind when I composed it, and +I was in a tender mood. There is indeed nothing +very new in it. You know me well, and what I am; +in no respect am I changed, so you may smile at +this and rejoice. I could say and wish many other +things for you, but none better; and this letter too +shall contain nothing else. You know that I am +always your own; and may it please God to bestow +on you all that I hope and pray.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"> 15</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/033.jpg" width="300" height="494" alt="music033" /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"> 16</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/034.jpg" width="300" height="486" alt="music034" /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"> 17</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/035.jpg" width="300" height="288" alt="music035" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/033.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Linz, August 11th, 1830.</h3> + +<p>Dearest Mother,</p> + +<p>"How a travelling musician bore his bad luck in +Salzburg." A fragment from the unwritten journal +of Count F. M. B. (continuation.) After I had +finished my last letter to you, a regular day of misfortunes +commenced for me. I took up my pencil, +and so entirely destroyed two of my pet sketches, +taken in the Bavarian mountains, that I was obliged +to tear them from my book, and to throw them out +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"> 18</a></span> +of the window. This provoked me exceedingly; so +to divert my mind, I went to the Capuchin Hill: of +course I contrived to lose my way, and at the very +moment, when I at last found myself on the summit, +it began to rain so furiously that I was forced to +run down again with all speed under the shelter of +an umbrella. Well! I resolved at all events to +have a look at the monastery at the foot of the +hill, so I rang the bell, when I suddenly recollected +that I had not sufficient money to give the monk +who was to show the building, and as this is a kind +of thing that they take highly amiss, I hurried away +without waiting till the porter appeared.</p> + +<p>I then closed my packet of letters for Leipzig, +and took it myself to the post, but there I was told, +that it must first be examined at the Custom-house; +so thither I went. They kept me waiting a whole +hour, till they composed a certificate of three lines, +and behaved so saucily that I was forced to quarrel +with them. Hang Salzburg! thought I; so I +ordered horses for Ischl, where I hoped to escape +from all my bad luck. No horses were to be had +without a permission from the police. I went to +the police office. "No permission can be granted +till you bring your passport." Why pursue the +subject? After innumerable delays, and running +about hither and thither, the wished-for post-carriage +arrived. My dinner was over, my luggage +ready, and I thought that at last all was in good +train: my bill and the servants fees were paid.</p> + +<p>Just as I reached the door, I saw two handsome +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"> 19</a></span> +open carriages approaching at a foot's pace, and the +people of the inn hurrying to receive the travellers, +who were following on foot. I however paid no +attention to the new arrivals, but jumped into my +carriage. I observed, that at the same moment, +one of the travelling carriages drew up close to +mine, and that a lady was seated in it,—but what a +lady! That you may not instantly jump to the +conclusion that I had suddenly fallen in love, which +would have been the crowning point of my unlucky +day, I must tell you that she was an elderly lady; +but she looked very amiable and benevolent; she +wore a black dress, and a massive gold chain, and +smiled good-humouredly when she paid the postilion +his fare. Heaven knows why I continued to arrange +my luggage instead of driving off. I did look +across continually at the other carriage, and though +the lady was an entire stranger to me I felt a strong +inclination to address her. It might be mere imagination +on my part, but I do think that she too looked +at the dusty traveller in his student's cap. At +length she got out of the carriage, and stood close +to the door of my vehicle, leaning her hand on it, +and I required all my knowledge of the common +proprieties of travelling, not to get out myself and +say to her, "Dear lady, what may your name be?" +Routine however conquered, and I called out with +an air of dignity, "Postilion! go on!" on which the +lady quickly withdrew her hand, and we set off. I +felt in no very pleasant humour, and while thinking +over the events of the day, I fell asleep.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"> 20</a></span> +A carriage with two gentlemen passing us, woke +me up, and the following dialogue ensued between +the postilion and myself. <em>I.</em> These gentlemen are +coming from Ischl, so I shall probably find no +horses there. <em>He.</em> Oh! the two carriages that +stopped at the Inn were also from Ischl; still there +is no doubt you will get horses. <em>I.</em> Are you sure +they came from Ischl? <em>He.</em> Quite sure: they go +there every year, and were here last summer also; +I drove them. It is a baroness from Vienna, +(Heavens! thought I,) and she is dreadfully rich, and +has such handsome daughters. When they went to +Berchtesgaden to visit the mines, I drove them, and +very nice they looked in their miner's dresses: they +have a grand estate, and yet they speak to us quite +familiarly. Halt! cried I; what name?—Don't +know.—Pereira?<a name="FNanchor_4" id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a>—Not sure.—Drive back,—said I +in a resolute tone.—If I do, we shall not reach Ischl +to-night, and we have got over the worst hill; you +can learn the name at the next stage.—I hesitated, +and we drove on. They did not know the name at +the next stage, nor at the following one either. At +length, at the end of seven long wearisome hours, +we arrived, and before I left the carriage, I said, +who were the party who drove to Salzburg this +morning in two carriages? and received the quiet +reply,—Baroness Pereira; she proceeds to Gastein +early to-morrow morning, but returns four or five +days hence. Now I had arrived at a certainty, and I +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"> 21</a></span> +also spoke to her driver, who said that none of the +family were here. The two gentlemen I met in a carriage +on the road, were sons of the Baroness (the +very two I had never seen). In addition to all this, I +remembered a wretched portrait that I had once +got a glimpse of at our aunt H——'s, and the lady +in the black dress was Baroness Pereira! Heaven +knows when I may have another opportunity of +seeing her! I do not think that she ever could +have made a more pleasing impression on me, and +I shall not assuredly soon forget her attractive +appearance, and her kind expression of countenance.</p> + +<p>Nothing is more unsatisfactory than a presentiment; +we all experience them, but we never +discover till too late, that they really were presentiments. +I would have returned then and there, +and travelled through the night, but I reflected that +I should only overtake her at the very moment of +her departure, or that possibly she might have left +Salzburg before my arrival, and that I should thus +frustrate all the plan of my journey to Vienna. At +one moment I thought of going to Gastein, but I +could not help feeling that Salzburg had treated +me very badly, so I once more said adieu, and went +to bed very crest-fallen. Next morning I desired +that her empty house should be pointed out to me, +and made a sketch of it for you, dear mother. My +bad luck, however, was still growling in the distance, +for I could find no favourable spot to take +my sketch from. Besides, they charged me more +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"> 22</a></span> +than a ducat at the inn for one night's entertainment, +etc., etc. I gave utterance to various anathemas, +both in English and German, and drove +away, laying aside among the things of the past, +Ischl, Salzburg, Baroness Pereira, and the Traunsee; +and so I came on here, where I have taken a day's +rest.</p> + +<p>To-morrow I intend to pursue my journey, and +(D. V.) to sleep in Vienna the day after. I will +write to you further from thence. Thus ended my +day of misfortunes; "truth, and <em>no</em> poetry," not +even the leaning the hand against the door of my +carriage is invention; all is a portrait taken from +life. The most incomprehensible thing is that I +should have totally overlooked Flora, who it seems +was also there, for the old lady in a tartan cloak, +who went into the inn, was Frau von W——, and +the old gentleman with green spectacles who followed +her, could not well have been Flora? In +short, when things once take a wrong turn, they +will have their course. I can write no more to-day, +for my disappointment is still too recent; in my +next letter I will describe the Salzkammergut, and +all the beauties of my journey yesterday. How +right Devrient was to advise me to take this route! +The Traunstein also, and the Traun Falls, are wonderfully +fine; and after all, the world is a very +pleasant world, and it is fortunate for me that you +are in it, and that I shall find letters from you the +day after to-morrow, and possibly much that is +agreeable besides. Dear Fanny, I mean now to +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"> 23</a></span> +compose my <em>Non nobis</em>, and the symphony in A +minor. Dear Rebecca, if you could hear me singing +"Im warmen Thal" in a spasmodic fashion, you +would think it rather deplorable; you could sing it +better. Oh, Paul! can you declare that you understand +the Schein Gulden, W. W. Gulden, heavy +Gulden, light Gulden, Conventions Gulden, and the +devil and his grandmother's Gulden? I don't, one +bit. I wish therefore that you were with me, but +for many reasons besides this one. Farewell!</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Presburg, September 27th, 1830.</h3> + +<p>Dear Brother,</p> + +<p>Peals of bells, drums and music, carriages on carriages, +people hurrying in all directions, everywhere +gay crowds, such is the general aspect around me, +for to-morrow is to be the coronation of the King, +which the whole city has been expecting since +yesterday, and are now imploring that the sky may +clear up, and wake bright and cheerful, for the +grand ceremony which ought to have taken place +yesterday was obliged to be deferred on account of +the torrents of rain. This afternoon the sky is blue +and beautiful, and the moon is now shining down +tranquilly on the tumult of the city. To-morrow at +a very early hour the Crown Prince is to take his +oaths (as King of Hungary) in the large Market-place; +he is then to go to church in grand procession, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"> 24</a></span> +attended by a whole array of bishops and +nobles of the realm, and afterwards rides up the +Königsberg, which lies opposite my windows, in +order to wave his sword towards the banks of the +Danube and the four quarters of the globe, in token +that he takes possession of his new realm.</p> + +<p>This excursion has made me acquainted with a +new country; for Hungary with her magnates, her +high dignitaries, her Oriental luxury, and also her +barbarism, is to be seen here, and the streets offer a +spectacle which is to me both novel and striking. +We really seem here to approach closer to the East; +the miserably obtuse peasants or serfs; the troops +of gipsies; the equipages and retainers of the +nobles overloaded with gold and gems, (for the +grandees themselves are only visible through the +closed windows of their carriages); then the singularly +bold national physiognomy, the yellow hue, +the long moustaches, the soft foreign idiom—all +this makes the most motley impression in the world.</p> + +<p>Early yesterday I went alone through the streets. +First came a long array of jovial officers, on spirited +little horses; behind them a crew of gipsies, making +music; succeeded by Vienna fashionables, with eye-glasses +and kid gloves, conversing with a Capuchin +monk; then a couple of uncivilized peasants in +long white coats, their hats pressed down on their +foreheads, and their straight black hair cut even all +round, (they have reddish-brown complexions, a +languid gait, and an indescribable expression of +savage stupidity and indifference); then came a +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25"> 25</a></span> +couple of sharp, acute-looking students of theology, +in their long blue coats, walking arm-in-arm; Hungarian +proprietors in their dark blue national +costume; court servants; and numbers of carriages +every moment arriving, covered with mud. I followed +the crowd as they slowly moved on up the hill, +and so at last I arrived at the dilapidated castle, +which commands an extensive view of the whole +city and the Danube. People were looking down +on all sides from the ancient white walls, and from +the towers and balconies; in every corner boys +were scribbling their names on the walls for the +benefit of posterity; in a small chamber (perhaps +once on a time a chapel, or a sleeping-apartment) +an ox was in the act of being roasted whole, and as +it turned on the spit, the people shouted with delight; +a succession of cannons bristled before the +castle, destined to bellow forth their appropriate +thunders at the coronation.</p> + +<p>Below, on the Danube, which runs very rapidly +here, darting with the speed of an arrow through +the pontoon bridge, lay a new steamer, that had +just arrived, laden with strangers; then the extensive +view of the flat but wooded country, and +meadows overflowed by the Danube; of the embankments +and streets swarming with human beings, +and mountains clothed with Hungarian vines—all +this was not a little strange and foreign. Then the +pleasant contrast of living in the same house with +the best and most friendly people in the world, and +finding novelty doubly interesting in their society. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26"> 26</a></span> +These were really among the happy days, dear +brother, that a kind Providence so often and so +richly bestows on me.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>September 28th, one o'clock.</h3> + +<p>The King is crowned—the ceremony was wonderfully +fine. How can I even try to describe it to +you? An hour hence we will all drive back to +Vienna, and thence I pursue my journey. There is +a tremendous uproar under my windows, and the +Burgher-guards are flocking together, but only for +the purpose of shouting "<em>Vivat!</em>" I pushed my +way through the crowd, while our ladies saw everything +from the windows, and never can I forget the +effect of all this brilliant and almost fabulous magnificence.</p> + +<p>In the great square of the Hospitallers the people +were closely packed together, for there the oaths +were to be taken on a platform hung with cloth; +and afterwards the people were to be allowed the +privilege of tearing down the cloth for their own +use; close by was a fountain spouting red and +white Hungarian wine. The grenadiers could not +keep back the people; one unlucky hackney coach +that stopped for a moment was instantly covered +with men, who clambered on the spokes of the +wheels, and on the roof, and on the box, swarming +on it like ants, so that the coachman, unable to +drive on without becoming a murderer, was forced +to wait quietly where he was. When the procession +arrived, which was received bare-headed, I had the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27"> 27</a></span> +utmost difficulty in taking off my hat, and holding +it above my head; an old Hungarian, however, +behind me, whose view it intercepted, quickly devised +a remedy, for without ceremony he made a +snatch at my unlucky hat, and in an instant flattened +it to the size of a cap; then they yelled as if +they had all been spitted, and fought for the cloth; in +short they were a mob; but my Magyars! the +fellows look as if they were born noblemen, and +privileged to live at ease, looking very melancholy, +but riding like the devil.</p> + +<p>When the procession descended the hill, first +came the court servants, covered with embroidery, +the trumpeters and kettle drums, the heralds and all +that class, and then suddenly galloped along the +street a mad Count, <em>en pleine carrière</em>, his horse +plunging and capering, and the caparisons edged +with gold; the Count himself a mass of diamonds, +rare herons' plumes, and velvet embroidery (though +he had not yet assumed his state uniform, being +bound to ride so madly—Count Sandor is the name +of this furious cavalier.) He had an ivory sceptre +in his hand with which he urged on his horse, +causing it each time to rear, and to make a tremendous +bound forward.</p> + +<p>When his wild career was over, a procession of +about sixty more magnates arrived, all in the same +fantastic splendour, with handsome coloured turbans, +twisted moustaches, and dark eyes. One rode +a white horse covered with a gold net; another a +dark grey, the bridle and housings studded with +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28"> 28</a></span> +diamonds; then came a black charger with purple +cloth caparisons. One magnate was attired from +head to foot in sky blue, thickly embroidered with +gold, a white turban, and a long white dolman; +another in cloth of gold, with a purple dolman; +each one more rich and gaudy than the other, and +all riding so boldly and fearlessly, and with such +defiant gallantry, that it was quite a pleasure to +look at them. At length came the Hungarian +Guards, with Esterhazy at their head, dazzling in +gems and pearl embroidery. How can I describe +the scene? You ought to have seen the procession +deploy and halt in the spacious square, and all the +jewels and bright colours, and the lofty golden +mitres of the bishops, and the crucifixes glittering +in the brilliant sunshine like a thousand stars!</p> + +<p>Well, to-morrow, God willing, I proceed on my +journey. Now, dear brother, you have a letter, so +pray write soon, and let me hear how you are getting +on. So you have had an <em>émeute</em> in Berlin? +and that, too, an <em>émeute</em> of tailors' apprentices? +What did it all mean? Once more I send you my +farewell from Germany, my dear parents, and +brother and sisters. I am leaving Hungary for +Italy, and thence I hope to write to you more frequently +and more at leisure. Be of good cheer, +dear Paul, and go forwards in a confident spirit; +rejoice with those that rejoice, and do not forget +the brother who is wandering about the world.</p> + +<p class="right">Yours, <span class="smcap">Felix</span>.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29"> 29</a></span></p> + +<h3>Venice, October 10th, 1830.</h3> + +<p>Italy at last! and what I have all my life considered +as the greatest possible felicity, is now begun, +and I am basking in it. The day has been so fruitful +in enjoyment, that I must, now that it is evening, +endeavour to collect my thoughts a little to write to +you, my dear parents, and to thank you for having +bestowed such happiness on me. You also, my +dear brother and sisters, are often in my thoughts. +How much I wish for you, Paul, to be with me here, +once more to enjoy your delight in our rapid travels +by sea and by land; and I should like to prove to +you, Hensel, that the "Assumption of the Blessed +Virgin" is the most divine work ever produced by +the hands of man. You are not here, however, so +I am obliged to give vent to my enthusiasm in bad +Italian to the <em>laquais de place</em>, who stands still and +listens.</p> + +<p>I shall however become quite confused, if things +are to go on as they have done on this first day, +when every hour brought with it so much never to +be forgotten, that I do not know where to find sufficient +grasp of intellect to comprehend it all properly. +I saw the "Assumption," then a whole +gallery of paintings in the Manfrini Palace; then +a church festival in the church where hangs Titian's +St. Peter; afterwards St. Mark's, and in the afternoon +I had a row on the Adriatic, and visited the +public gardens, where the people lie on the grass +and eat. I then returned to the Piazza of St. +Mark, where in the twilight there is always an immense +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30"> 30</a></span> +crowd and crush of people; and all this I +was obliged to see to-day, because there is so much +that is novel and interesting to be seen to-morrow.</p> + +<p>But I must now relate methodically how I came +hither by water, (for, as Telemachus says, to do so +by land would be no easy matter,) and so I begin +my history at Gratz, which is certainly the most +tiresome hole in the world, and where you yawn all +day; and why should I have stayed a single day +longer, on account of a (he) relation? How can a +traveller with any experience possibly accept of a +brother, who is also an ensign, in the place of a +charming mother and sister? In short, the man did +not know what to do with me, for which I forgive +him freely, and shall not defame him to his mother, +when I perform my promise and write to her; but +he took me to the theatre to see the "Rehbock," +the most wretched, silly, objectionable piece that +the late Kotzebue ever wrote; and moreover he +declared it to be very good and very amusing, and +this is not to be forgiven, for this <em>Rehbock</em> has such +a <em>haut goût</em> or <em>fumet</em>, that it could not even please +a cat: but at all events I have left Gratz, for here +I am in Venice.</p> + +<p>My old vetturino woke me up at four o'clock in +the dark, and the horse crawled off with us both. +I thought of you, dear father, at least a hundred +times during our journey of two days. You would +certainly have gone wild with impatience, and possibly +assaulted the coachman also, for at every +little declivity, he got slowly off the box, deliberately +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31"> 31</a></span> +put on the drag, and crept up the smallest +hill at a snail's pace; then he thought fit to walk +beside his horses for a time, to stretch his legs: +every possible conveyance passed us on the road, +even when drawn by dogs or donkeys, and when at +last, at a steep hill, the fellow put on two oxen as +leaders, whose pace exactly corresponded with that +of his horse, I had the greatest difficulty in not +belabouring him, indeed I did so more than once; +but he then gravely assured me that we were going +at a capital pace, and I had no means of proving +the contrary. Moreover he always passed the night +in the most detestable pot-houses, starting again at +four o'clock in the morning, so on arriving at +Klagenfurt I was fairly worn out; but when in +answer to my question as to the time the Venetian +diligence set out, I received the answer,—in an hour +hence,—I seemed to revive. I was promised a place, +and I also got a good supper. The diligence, +indeed, did not arrive for two hours after its time, +having been detained by deep snow on the Sömmering, +but still it came at last. Three Italians were +inside, and chattered so that I could scarcely get +to sleep, but my snoring fairly silenced them after +a time.</p> + +<p>At last morning broke, and as we drove into Resciutta, +the driver said, that on the other side of the +bridge there, no one understood a word of German. I +therefore took leave of my mother tongue for a long +time to come, and we drove over the bridge. The +style of the houses immediately beyond was entirely +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32"> 32</a></span> +different. The flat roofs with their convex tiles, the +deep windows, the high white walls, and lofty square +towers, all betokened another land. The pale olive +faces of the men, the innumerable beggars who besieged +the carriage, the various small chapels, +brightly and carefully painted on every side with +flowers, the nuns, monks, and so forth, were all +symptomatic of Italy. The monotonous character +of the whole scenery however, and of the road we +were travelling, passing through bare white rocks, +along the banks of a river with a rough rocky bed, +in summer creeping along in the form of a tiny +brook, certainly does not seem characteristic of +Italy. "I purposely made this passage rather +meagre, in order that the <em>subject</em> might be more +distinctly heard," says Abt Vogler; and I almost +think that Providence has done pretty much the +same here, for when we had passed Ospedaletto the +<em>subject</em> did come out well, and a fine sight it was. I +had imagined that the first impression of Italy would +be like that of a sudden explosion, violent and startling; +I have not hitherto found this to be the case. +The effect produced on me has been rather that of +a genial warmth, mildness and cheerfulness, and an +indescribable sensation of pervading content and +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>After passing Ospedaletto we entered a plain, +leaving the blue mountains behind us; the sun shone +bright and warm through the foliage of the vines; +the road winding through orchards, in which the +trees were connected by trailing boughs. I felt as +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33"> 33</a></span> +if I were at home again, and knew every object, and +was once more about to take possession of it all. +The carriage too seemed to <em>fly</em> over the smooth +road, and towards evening we arrived at Udine, +where we passed the night, when for the first time +I ordered my supper in Italian, my tongue skating +as if on slippery ice, first gliding into English, and +then stumbling afresh. Moreover next morning I +was famously cheated, but I did not in the least +care, and on we went. It happened to be Sunday, +and on every side people were coming along, in +bright southern costumes, and flowers; the women +with roses in their hair. Light single-horse carriages +drove past, and men were riding to church +on donkeys; at the inns, groups of idlers were to +be seen in the most picturesque, indolent attitudes: +among others, one man placed his arm quietly +round his wife's waist, and swung round with her +and then they went on their way; this sounds trivial +enough, and yet it had a pretty effect. Venetian +villas now were occasionally visible from the road, +and by degrees became more frequent, till at length +our way led past houses, trees, and gardens like a +park. The whole country had a gay festive air, +as if a Prince were expected to make his grand +entry, and the vine-branches with their rich purple +grapes hanging in festoons from the trees, made +the most lovely of all festive wreaths. The inhabitants +were all gaily dressed and adorned, and a few +scattered cypresses only enhanced the general +effect.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34"> 34</a></span> +In Treviso there was an illumination, paper +lanterns suspended in every part of the great +square, and a large gaudy transparency in the +centre. Some most lovely girls were walking about, +in their long white veils and scarlet petticoats. It +was quite dark when we arrived at Mestre last +night, when we got into a boat, and in a dead calm, +gently rowed across to Venice. On our passage +thither, where nothing but water is to be seen, and +distant lights, we saw a small rock which stands in +the midst of the sea; on this a lamp was burning; +all the sailors took off their hats as we passed, and +one of them said, this was the "Madonna of Tempests," +which are often most dangerous and violent +here. We then glided quietly into the great city, +under innumerable bridges, without sound of post-horns, +or rattling of wheels, or toll-keepers; the +passage now became more thronged, and numbers +of ships were lying near; past the theatre, where +gondolas in long rows lie waiting for their masters, +just as our own carriages do at home, then into the +great canal, past the church of St. Mark, the Lions, +the palace of the Doges, and the Bridge of Sighs. +The obscurity of night only enhanced my delight +on hearing the familiar names, and seeing the dark +outlines.</p> + +<p>And so I am actually in Venice! Well, to-day I +have seen the finest pictures in the world, and have +at last personally made the acquaintance of a very +admirable man, whom hitherto I only knew by name—I +allude to a certain Signor Giorgione, an inimitable +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35"> 35</a></span> +artist—and also to Pordenone, who paints the +most noble portraits, both of himself and many of +his simple scholars, in such a devout, faithful, and +pious spirit, that you seem to converse with him, +and to feel an affection for him. Who would not +have been confused by all this? But if I am to +speak of Titian, I must do so in a more reverent +mood. Till now, I never knew that he was the felicitous +artist I have this day seen him to be. That +he thoroughly enjoyed life, in all its beauty and fulness, +the picture in Paris proves; but he has fathomed +the depths of human sorrow, as well as the joys of +Heaven. His glorious "Entombment," and also +the "Assumption," fully evince this. How Mary +floats on the cloud, while a waving movement seems +to pervade the whole picture; how you see at a +glance her very breathing, her awe, and piety, and +in short a thousand feelings,—all words seem poor +and commonplace in comparison! The three angels +too, on the right of the picture, are of the highest +order of beauty,—pure, serene loveliness, so unconscious, +so bright and so seraphic. But no more of +this! or I must perforce become poetical, or indeed +am so already, and this does not at all suit me; but +I shall certainly see it every day.</p> + +<p>I must however say a few words about the "Entombment," +as you have the engraving. Look at it, +and think of me. This picture represents the conclusion +of a great tragedy: so still, so grand, and +so acutely painful. Magdalene is supporting Mary, +fearing that she will die of anguish; she endeavours +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36"> 36</a></span> +to lead her away, but looks round herself once more, +evidently wishing to imprint this spectacle indelibly +on her heart, thinking that it is for the last time; +it surpasses everything; and then the sorrowing +John, who sympathizes and suffers with Mary; and +Joseph, who absorbed in his piety, and occupied +with the tomb, directs and conducts the whole; and +Christ himself, lying there so tranquil, having endured +to the end: then the blaze of brilliant colour, +and the gloomy mottled sky! It is a composition +that speaks to my heart and fills me with enthusiasm, +and will never leave my memory.</p> + +<p>I believe few things I have yet to see in Italy will +affect me so deeply; but you know that I am devoid +of all prejudices, and I give you a fresh proof of this +by telling you that the "Martyrdom of St. Peter," +from which I expected the most, pleased me the +least of the three; it did not strike me as being a +complete whole; the landscape, which is very fine, +seemed to me to predominate too much. Then I was +dissatisfied with the disposition in the picture of <em>two</em> +victims and only <em>one</em> murderer; (for the small figure +in the distant background does not remedy this). +I could not bring myself to consider it a martyrdom. +But probably I am in error, and I intend to study it +more carefully to-morrow; my contemplation of it, +besides, was disturbed by some one strumming most +sacrilegiously on the organ, and these sacred forms +were forced to listen to such miserable opera <em>finales</em>! +But this matters not: where such pictures are, I +require no organist. I play the organ in my thoughts +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37"> 37</a></span> +for myself, and feel as little irritated by such trash +as I should be by an ignorant rabble. Titian, however, +was a man well adapted to improve others; so +I shall try to profit by him, and to rejoice that I am +in Italy. At this moment the gondoliers are shouting +to each other, and the lights are reflected in the +depths of the waters; one is playing a guitar, and +singing to it. It is a charming night. Farewell! +and think of me in every happy hour as I do of you.</p> + +<p class="smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">To Professor Zelter.</span><a name="FNanchor_5" id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></p> + +<h3>Venice, October 16th, 1830.</h3> + +<p>Dear Professor,</p> + +<p>I have entered Italy at last, and I intend this +letter to be the commencement of a regular series +of reports, which I purpose transmitting to you, of +all that appears to me particularly worthy of notice. +Though I only now for the first time write to you, I +must beg you to impute the blame to the state of +constant excitement in which I lived, both in Munich +and in Vienna. It was needless for me to describe to +you the parties in Munich, which I attended every +evening, and where I played the piano more unremittingly +than I ever did in my life before; one <em>soirée</em> +succeeding another so closely, that I really had +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38"> 38</a></span> +not a moment to collect my thoughts. Moreover, +it would not have particularly interested you, for +after all, "good society which does not offer materials +for the smallest epigram," is equally vapid in a +letter. I hope that you have not taken amiss my +long silence, and that I may expect a few lines from +you, even if they contain nothing save that you are +well and cheerful.</p> + +<p>The aspect of the world at this moment is very +bleak and stormy, and much that was once thought +durable and unchangeable, has been swept away in +the course of a couple of days. It is then doubly +welcome to hear well-known voices, to convince us +that there are certain things which cannot be annihilated +or demolished, but remain firm and steadfast. +You must know that I am at this moment +very uneasy at not having received any news from +home for some weeks past. I found no letters from +my family, either at Trieste or here, so a few lines +from you, written in your old fashion, would both +cheer and gratify me, especially as it would prove +that you think of me with the same kindness that +you have always done from my childhood to the +present time.</p> + +<p>My family have no doubt told you of the exhilarating +impression made on me by the first sight of the +plains of Italy. I hurry from one enjoyment to +another hour by hour, and constantly see something +novel and fresh; but immediately on my arrival I +discovered some masterpieces of art, which I study +with deep attention, and contemplate daily for a +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39"> 39</a></span> +couple of hours at least. These are three pictures +by Titian. The "Presentation of Mary as a Child +in the Temple;" the "Assumption of the Virgin;" +and the "Entombment of Christ." There is also a +portrait by Giorgione, representing a girl with a +cithern in her hand, plunged in thought, and looking +forth from the picture in serious meditation (she is +apparently about to begin a song, and you feel as if +you must do the same): besides many others.</p> + +<p>To see these alone would be worth a journey to +Venice; for the fruitfulness, genius, and devotion +of the great men who painted these pictures, seem +to emanate from them afresh as often as you gaze +at their works, and I do not much regret that I +have scarcely heard any music here; for I suppose +I must not venture to include the music of the +angels, in the "Assumption," encircling Mary with +joyous shouts of welcome; one gaily beating the +tambourine, a couple of others blowing away on +strange crooked flutes, while another charming +group are singing—or the music floating in the +thoughts of the cithern player. I have only once +heard anything on the organ, and miserable it +was. I was gazing at Titian's "Martyrdom of St. +Peter" in the Franciscan Church. Divine service +was going on, and nothing inspires me with more +solemn awe than when on the very spot for which +they were originally created and painted, those +ancient pictures in all their grandeur, gradually +steal forth out of the darkness in which the long +lapse of time has veiled them.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40"> 40</a></span> +As I was earnestly contemplating the enchanting +evening landscape with its trees, and angels among +the boughs, the organ commenced. The first sound +was quite in harmony with my feelings; but the +second, third, and in fact all the rest, quickly roused +me from my reveries, and sent me straight home, +for the man was playing in church and during +divine service, and in the presence of respectable +people, thus:</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/058.jpg" width="300" height="251" alt="music058" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/058a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>with the "Martyrdom of St. Peter" actually close +beside him! I was therefore in no great hurry to +make the acquaintance of the organist. There is +no regular Opera here at this moment, and the gondoliers +no longer sing, Tasso's stanzas; moreover, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41"> 41</a></span> +what I have hitherto seen of modern Venetian art, +consists of poems framed and glazed on the subject +of Titian's pictures, or Rinaldo and Armida, +by a new Venetian painter, or a St. Cecilia by a +ditto, besides various specimens of architecture in +no style at all; as all these are totally insignificant, +I cling to the ancient masters, and study how they +worked. Often, after doing so, I feel a musical inspiration, +and since I came here I have been busily +engaged in composition.</p> + +<p>Before I left Vienna, a friend of mine made me a +present of Luther's Hymns, and on reading them +over I was again so much struck by their power, that +I intend to compose music for several next winter. +I have nearly completed here the choral "Aus tiefer +Noth," for four voices <em>a capella</em>; and the Christmas +hymn, "Vom Himmel hoch," is already in my head. +I wish also to set the following hymns to music: +"Ach Gott, vom Himmel sieh darein," "Wir glauben +all' an einen Gott," "Verleih uns Frieden," "Mitten +wir im Leben sind," and finally "Ein' feste +Burg." The latter, however, it is my intention to +compose for a choir and orchestra. Pray write to +me about this project of mine, and say whether you +approve of my retaining the ancient melodies in +them all, but not adhering to them too strictly: +for instance, if I were to take the first verse of +"Vom Himmel hoch" as a separate grand chorus. +Besides this, I am hard at work at an orchestral +overture, and if an opportunity for an opera offered +it would be most welcome.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42"> 42</a></span> +I finished two pieces of sacred music in Vienna—a +choral in three movements for chorus and orchestra +("O! Haupt voll Blut und Wunden") and +an Ave Maria for a choir of eight voices, <em>a capella</em>. +The people I associated with there were so dissipated +and frivolous, that I became quite spiritually-minded, +and conducted myself like a divine among +them. Moreover, not one of the best pianoforte +players there, male or female, ever played a note of +Beethoven, and when I hinted that he and Mozart +were not to be despised, they said, "So you are an +admirer of classical music?"—"Yes," said I.</p> + +<p>To-morrow I intend to go to Bologna to have a +glance at the St. Cecilia, and then proceed by +Florence to Rome, where I hope (D. V.) to arrive +eight or ten days hence. I will then write to you +more satisfactorily. I only wished to make a beginning +to-day, and to beg you not to forget me, and +kindly to accept my heartfelt wishes for your health +and happiness. Your faithful</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Florence, October 23rd, 1830.</h3> + +<p>Here am I in Florence, the air warm and the sky +bright; everything is beautiful and glorious, "wo +blieb die Erde," as Goethe says. I have now received +your letter of the 3rd, by which I see that +you are all well, that my anxiety was needless, that +you are all going on as usual, and thinking of me; +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43"> 43</a></span> +so I feel happy again, and can now see everything, +and enjoy everything, and am able to write to you; +in short, my mind is at rest on the main point. I +made my journey here amid a thousand doubts and +fears, quite uncertain whether to go direct to Rome, +because I did not expect any letters at Florence. +Fortunately, however, I decided on coming here, +and now it is of no consequence how the misunderstanding +arose, that caused me to wait for letters in +Venice, while you had written to Florence; all I +can promise is to endeavour in future to be less +over-anxious. My driver pointed out a spot between +the hills, on which lay a blue mist, and said +"<em>Ecco Firenze!</em>" I eagerly looked towards the +place, and saw the round dome looming out of the +mist before me, and the spacious wide valley in +which the city is situated. My love of travel revived +when at last Florence appeared. I looked at +some willow-trees (as I thought) beside the road, +when the driver said, "Buon olio," and then I saw +that they were hanging full of olives.</p> + +<p>My driver, as a genus, is undoubtedly a most villanous +knave, thief, and impostor; he has cheated me +and half-starved me, and yet I think him almost +amiable from his enthusiastic animal nature. About +an hour before we arrived in Florence he said that +the beautiful scenery was now about to commence; +and true it is that the fair land of Italy does first +begin then. There are villas on every height, and +decorated old walls, with sloping terraces of roses +and aloes, flowers and grapes and olive leaves, the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44"> 44</a></span> +sharp points of cypresses, and the flat tops of pines, +all sharply defined against the sky; then handsome +square faces, busy life on the roads on every side, +and at a distance in the valley, the blue city.</p> + +<p>So I drove confidently into Florence in my little +open carriage, and though I looked shabby and +dusty, like one coming from the Apennines, I cared +little for that. I passed recklessly through all +the smart equipages from which the most refined +English ladies looked at me; while I thought it may +one day actually come to pass that you who are now +looking down on the <em>roturier</em>, may shake hands +with him, the only difference being a little clean +linen and so forth. By the time that we came to +the <em>battisterio</em>, I no longer felt diffident, but gave +orders to drive to the Post, and then I was really +happy, for I received three letters,—yours of the +22nd and the 3rd, and my father's also. I was now +quite delighted, and as we drove along beside the +Arno, to Schneider's celebrated hotel, the world +seemed once more a very pleasant world.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>October 24th.</h3> + +<p>The Apennines are really not so beautiful as I +had imagined; for the name always suggested to me +richly wooded, picturesque hills, covered with vegetation, +whereas they are merely a long chain of +melancholy bleak hills; and the little verdure there +is, not gratifying to the eye. There are no dwellings +to be seen, no merry brooks or rills; only an +occasional stream, its broad bed dried up, or a little +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45"> 45</a></span> +water-channel. Add to this the shameful roguery +of the inhabitants: really, at last, I became quite +confused and perplexed, by their incessant cheating, +and could scarcely discover for what object they +were lying. I therefore, once for all, invariably +protested against every demand they made, and +declared that I would not pay at all if they asked +more than I chose to give; so in this way I managed +very tolerably.</p> + +<p>Last night I was again in grand quarters: I had +made an agreement with the vetturino for board +and lodging, and all I required. The natural consequence +was, that the fellow took me to the most +detestable little inns, and actually starved me. So +late yesterday we arrived at a solitary pothouse, +the filth of which no pen can describe. The stair +was strewed with heaps of dead leaves and firewood; +moreover the cold was intense, and they invited me +to warm myself in the kitchen, which I agreed to +do. A bench was placed for me beside the fire; a +whole troop of peasants were standing about, also +warming themselves. I looked quite regal from my +bench on the hearth among this rough set of fellows, +who, in their broad-leaved hats, lit up by the fire, and +babbling in their incomprehensible dialect, looked +vastly suspicious characters. I made them prepare +my soup under my own eyes, giving moreover good +advice on the subject; but, after all, it was not +eatable.</p> + +<p>I entered into conversation with my subjects +from my throne on the hearth, and they pointed out +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46"> 46</a></span> +to me a little hill in the distance incessantly vomiting +forth flames, which had a singular effect in the +dark ("Raticosa" is the name of the hill), and then +I was conducted to my bed-room. The landlord +took hold of the sackcloth sheets, and said, "Very +fine linen!" but I slept as sound as a bear, and before +falling asleep I said to myself, Now you are in +the Apennines: and next morning, after getting no +breakfast, my vetturino civilly asked me how I +liked my night's entertainment. The fellow talked +a great deal of nonsense about politics, and the +present state of France, abused his horse in German +for being born in Switzerland, and spoke French to +the beggars who swarmed round the cabriolet, while +I corrected many a fault in his pronunciation.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>October 25th.</h3> + +<p>I now intend to go once more to the Tribune, to be +inspired with feelings of reverence. There is a particular +place where I like to sit, as the little Venus +de' Medici is directly opposite, and above, that of +Titian, and by turning rather to the left, I have a +view of the Madonna del Cardello, a favourite picture +of mine, and which invariably reminds me of +<em>la belle Jardinière</em>, and seems to me a kindred +creation; and also the Fornarina, which made no +great impression on me from the first, for I know +the engraving, which is very faithful, and the face +has, I think, a most disagreeable and even ordinary +expression. In gazing thus, however, at the two +Venuses, their loveliness inspires a feeling of piety; +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47"> 47</a></span> +it is as if the two spirits who could produce such +creations, were flying through the hall and grasping +you as they passed.</p> + +<p>Titian must have been a marvellous man, and +enjoyed his life in his works; still the fair Medici +is not to be slighted, and then the divine Niobe +with all her children: while we gaze at her, we can +find no words. I have not yet been to the Pitti +Palace, which possesses the Saint Ezekiel, and the +Madonna della Sedia, of Raphael. I saw the gardens +of the palace yesterday in sunshine; they are +superb, and the thick solid stems of the myrtles +and laurels, and the innumerable cypresses, made +a strange exotic impression on me; but when I +declare that I consider beeches, limes, oaks, and +firs, ten times more beautiful and picturesque, I +think I hear Hensel exclaim, "Oh, the northern +bear!"</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>October 30th.</h3> + +<p>After the soft rain of yesterday, the air is so mild +and genial, that I am at this moment seated at the +open window writing to you; and indeed it is +pleasant enough to see the people going about the +streets, offering the prettiest baskets of flowers, +fresh violets, roses, and pinks. Two days ago, +being satiated with all pictures, statues, vases, and +museums, I resolved to take a long walk till sunset; +so after buying a bunch of narcissuses and heliotropes, +I went up the hill through the vineyards. It +was one of the most delightful walks I ever remember; +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48"> 48</a></span> +every one must feel revived and refreshed at the +sight of nature in such a garb as this, and a thousand +happy thoughts passed through my mind.</p> + +<p>First of all, I went to a villa called Bello +Sguardo, whence the whole of Florence and its spacious +valley are to be seen, and I thoroughly enjoyed +the view of the superb city and its massive towers +and palaces. But most of all I admired the countless +villas, covering every hill and every acclivity +as far as the eye can reach, as if the city extended +beyond the mountains into the far distance. And +when I took up a telescope and looked down on the +valley through the blue mists, every portion of it +seemed thickly dotted with bright objects and white +villas, while such a large circle of dwellings inspired +me with a feeling of home and comfort.</p> + +<p>I proceeded far over the hills to the highest point +I could see, on which stood an ancient tower, and +when I reached it I found all the people throughout +the building busily engaged in making wine, drying +grapes, and repairing casks. It proved to be +Galileo's tower, from which he used to make his +discoveries and observations; from here also there +was a very extensive view, and the girl who took +me to the roof of the tower related a number of +stories in her peculiar dialect, which I scarcely +understood at all; but she afterwards presented me +with some of her sweet dried grapes, which I ate +with great gusto. And so I went on to another +tower I saw at a distance, but could not manage to +find my way; and examining my map as I went +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49"> 49</a></span> +along, I stumbled on a traveller busily searching +his map also; the only difference between us being, +that he was an old Frenchman with green spectacles, +who addressed me thus, "È questo S. Miniato al +Monte, Signor?" With admirable decision I replied, +"Sì, Signor;" and it turned out that I was +right. A. F—— immediately recurred to my +memory, as she had advised me to see this monastery, +which is indeed wonderfully fine.</p> + +<p>When I tell you I went from there to the Boboli +Gardens, where I saw the sun set, and at night +enjoyed the brightest moonlight, you may imagine +how much I was invigorated by my ramble. I will +write to you about the pictures here some other +time, for to-day it is too late, as I have still to take +leave of the Pitti Palace and the great Gallery, and +to gaze once more at my Venus, who is not indeed +mentioned before ladies, but whose beauty is truly +divine. The courier goes at five o'clock, and God +willing, I shall be in Rome the day after to-morrow. +From thence you shall hear again.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Rome, November 2nd, 1830.</h3> + +<p>... I refrain from writing longer in this melancholy +strain; for just as your letter, after a lapse of +fourteen days, has saddened me, my answer will +have the same effect on you fourteen days hence. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50"> 50</a></span> +You would write to me in the same style, and so it +might go on for ever. As four weeks must pass before +I can receive any answer, I feel that I ought to +restrict myself to relating events past and present, +and not dwell much on the particular frame of my +mind at the moment, which is indeed usually sufficiently +manifest in the narrative given, and the +various occurrences described.</p> + +<p>I have scarcely yet arrived at the conviction that +I am now actually in Rome; and when yesterday, +just as day was breaking, I drove across a bridge +with statues, under a deep blue sky, and in dazzling +white moonlight, and the courier said, "Ponte +Molle," it all seemed to me like a dream, and at the +same moment I saw before me my sick-bed in +London a year ago, and my rough Scotch journey, +and Munich, and Vienna, and the pines on these +hills. The journey from Florence to Rome has +very few attractions. Siena, which is, I understand +worth seeing, we passed through during the night. +It was unpleasant to see a regular Government +courier compelled to take a military escort, which +was doubled at night; still it must be absolutely +necessary, as he is obliged to pay for it. In these +days this ought not to be the case. In the meantime +everything progresses, and there are moments +when the bound forwards is actually visible.</p> + +<p>I was still in Florence, waiting for the departure +of the post, reading a French newspaper, when at +the very moment the bell sounded, I read among +the advertisements, "Vie de Siebenkäs, par Jean +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51"> 51</a></span> +Paul." Many reflections occurred to me as to so +many men of renown gradually vanishing from our +sight, and our great geniuses having such homage +paid to them after their death, and yet during their +<em>life</em>, Lafontaine's novels and French vaudevilles +alone make any impression on their fellow-countrymen; +while <em>we</em> only strive to appreciate the very +refuse of the French, and neglect Beaumarchais +and Rousseau. However, it matters little after all.</p> + +<p>The first thing connected with music that I met +with here, was the "Tod Jesu," by Graun, which +an Abbate here, Fortunato Santini, has translated +faithfully and admirably into Italian. It appears +that the music of this heretic has been sent along +with the translation to Naples, where it is to be +produced this winter at a great festival, and I hear +that the musical world there are quite enchanted +with it, and are studying the work with infinite +love and enthusiasm. I understand that the Abbate +has been long impatiently expecting me, because he +hopes to obtain considerable information from me +about German music, and thinks I may also have +the score of Bach's "Passion." Thus music progresses +onwards, as sure to pierce through as the +sun; if mists still prevail, it is merely a sign that +the spring-time has not yet come, but come again +it must and will! Farewell! and from my heart I +say,—May a merciful Providence preserve you all +in health and happiness!</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52"> 52</a></span></p> + +<h3>Rome, November 8th, 1830.</h3> + +<p>I must now write to you of my first week in +Rome; how I have arranged my time, how I look +forward to the winter, and what impression the +glorious objects by which I am surrounded have +made on me; but this is no easy task. I feel as if +I were entirely changed since I came here. Formerly +when I wished to check my haste and +impatience to press forward, and to continue my +journey more rapidly, I attributed this eagerness +merely to the force of habit, but I am now fully +persuaded that it arose entirely from my anxiety to +reach this goal. Now that I have at last attained +it my mood is so tranquil and joyous, and yet so +earnest, that I shall not attempt to describe it to +you. What it is that thus works on me I cannot +exactly define; for the awe-inspiring Coliseum, and +the brilliant Vatican, and the genial air of spring, +all contribute to make me feel thus, and so do the +kindly people, my comfortable apartments, and +everything else. At all events I am different from +what I was. I am better in health and happier +than I have been for a long time, and take delight +in my work, and feel such an inclination for it, that +I expect to accomplish much more than I anticipated; +indeed, I have already done a good deal. If +it pleases Providence to grant me a continuation of +this happy mood, I look forward to the most delightful +and productive winter.</p> + +<p>Picture to yourself a small house, with two windows +in front, in the Piazza di Spagna, No. 5 which +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53"> 53</a></span> +all day long enjoys the warm sun, and an apartment +on the first floor, where there is a good Viennese +grand piano: on the table are some portraits of +Palestrina, Allegri, etc., along with the scores of +their works, and a Latin psalm-book, from which I +am to compose the <em>Non Nobis</em>;—such is my present +abode. The Capitol was too far away, besides I +had a great dread of the cold air, which here I have +no cause to guard against; for when I look out of +my window in the morning across the square, I see +every object sharply defined in the sunshine against +the blue sky. My landlord was formerly a captain +in the French army, and his daughter has the most +splendid contralto voice I ever heard. Above me +lives a Prussian captain, with whom I talk politics,—in +short, the situation is excellent.</p> + +<p>When I come into the room early in the morning, +and see the sun shining so brightly on the breakfast-table +(you see I am marred as a poet), I feel so +cheerful and comfortable, for it is now far on in the +autumn, and who in our country at this season looks +for warmth, or a bright sky, or grapes and flowers? +After breakfast I begin my work, and play, and +sing, and compose till near noon. Then Rome in +all her vast dimensions lies before me like an interesting +problem to enjoy; but I go deliberately to +work, daily selecting some different object appertaining +to history. One day I visit the ruins of the +ancient city; another I go to the Borghese gallery, +or to the Capitol, or St. Peter's, or the Vatican. +Each day is thus made memorable, and as I take +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54"> 54</a></span> +my time, each object becomes firmly and indelibly +impressed on me. When I am occupied in the +forenoon I am willing to leave off, and should like +to continue my writing, but I say to myself that I +must see the Vatican, and when I am actually there, +I equally dislike leaving it; thus each of my occupations +causes me the most genuine pleasure, and +one enjoyment follows another.</p> + +<p>Just as Venice, with her past, reminded me of a +vast monument: her crumbling modern palaces, +and the perpetual remembrance of former splendour, +causing sad and discordant sensations; so +does the past of Rome suggest the impersonation +of history; her monuments elevate the soul, inspiring +solemn yet serene feelings, and it is a thought +fraught with exultation that man is capable of +producing creations, which, after the lapse of a +thousand years, still renovate and animate others. +When I have fairly imprinted an object like this +on my mind, and each day a fresh one, twilight has +usually arrived and the day is over.</p> + +<p>I then visit my friends and acquaintances, when +we mutually communicate what each has done, +which means <em>enjoyed</em> here, and are reciprocally +pleased. I have been most evenings at Bendemann's +and Hübner's, where German artists usually assemble, +and I sometimes go to Schadow's. The Abbate +Santini is a valuable acquaintance for me, as he +has a very complete library of ancient Italian +music, and he kindly gives or lends me anything I +like, for no one can be more obliging. At night he +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55"> 55</a></span> +makes either Ahlborn or me accompany him home, +as an Abbate being seen alone at night in the +streets would bring him into evil repute. That +such youngsters as Ahlborn and I should act as +duennas to a priest of sixty is diverting enough.</p> + +<p>The Duchess of —— gave me a list of old music +which she was anxious to procure copies of if possible. +Santini's collection contains all this, and I am +much obliged to him for having furnished me with +copies, for I am now looking through them all, and +becoming acquainted with them. I beg you will +send me for him, as a token of my gratitude, the six +cantatas of Sebastian Bach, published by Marx at +Simrock's, or some of his pieces for the organ. I +should however prefer the cantatas: he already has +the "Magnificat" and the Motets, and others. He +has translated the "Singet dem Herrn ein neues +Lied," and intends it to be executed at Naples, for +which he deserves a reward. I am writing to Zelter +all particulars about the Papal singers, whom I +have heard three times,—in the Quirinal, in the +Monte Cavallo, and once in San Carlo.</p> + +<p>I look forward with delight to seeing Bunsen, +we shall have much to discuss together, and I have +likewise an idea that he has got some work for me; +if I can conscientiously undertake it, I will do so +gladly, and render it all the justice in my power. +Among my home pleasures I include that of reading +for the first time Goethe's Journey to Italy; and I +must avow that it is a source of great satisfaction +to me to find that he arrived in Rome the very +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56"> 56</a></span> +same day that I did; that he also went first to the +Quirinal, and heard a Requiem there; that he was +seized with the same fit of impatience in Florence +and Bologna; and felt the same tranquil, or as he calls +it, solid spirit here: indeed, everything that he describes, +I exactly experience myself, so I am pleased.</p> + +<p>He speaks in detail of a large picture of Titian's +in the Vatican, and declares that its meaning is not +to be devised; only a number of figures standing +beautifully grouped together. I fancy, however, +that I have discovered a very deep sense in it, and +I believe that whoever finds the most beauties in +Titian, is sure to be most in the right, for he was a +glorious man. Though he has not had the opportunity +of displaying and diffusing his genius here, +as Raphael has done in the Vatican, still I can +never forget his three pictures in Venice, and to +these I may add the one in the Vatican, which I +saw for the first time this morning. If any one +could come into the world with full consciousness, +every object around would smile on him with the +same vivid life and animation, that these pictures do +on us. "The School of Athens," and the "Disputa," +and the "Peter," stand before us precisely as they +were created; and then the entrance through splendid +open arches, whence you can see the Piazza of +St. Peter's, and Rome, and the blue Alban hills; and +above our heads figures from the Old Testament, +and a thousand bright little angels, and arabesques +of fruit, and garlands of flowers; and then on to +the gallery!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57"> 57</a></span> +You may well be proud, dear Hensel, for your +copy of the "Transfiguration" is superb! The +pleasing emotion which seizes me, when I see for +the first time some immortal work, and the pervading +idea and chief impression it inspires, I did +not experience on this occasion from the original, +but from <em>your</em> copy. The first effect of this picture +to-day, was precisely the same that yours had previously +made on me; and it was not till after +considerable research and contemplation that I +succeeded in finding out anything new to me. On +the other hand, the Madonna di Foligno dawned on +me in the whole splendour of her loveliness. I +have passed a happy morning in the midst of all +these glorious works; as yet I have not visited the +statues, but have reserved my first impression of +them for another day.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> +<h3>November 9th, morning.</h3> + +<p>Thus every morning brings me fresh anticipations, +and every day fulfils them. The sun is again +shining on my breakfast-table and I am now going +to my daily work. I will send you, dear Fanny, by +the first opportunity, what I composed in Vienna, +and anything else that may be finished, and my +sketch-book to Rebecca; but I am far from being +pleased with it this time, so I intend to study attentively +the sketches of the landscape painters here, +in order to acquire if possible a new manner. I +tried to produce one of my own, but it would not +do!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58"> 58</a></span> +To-day I am going to the Lateran, and the ruins +of ancient Rome; and in the evening to a kind +English family, whose acquaintance I made here. +Pray send me a good many letters of introduction. +I am exceedingly anxious to know numbers of people, +especially Italians. So I live on happily, and +think of you in every pleasant moment. May you +also be happy, and rejoice with me at the prospect +which lies before me here!</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix M. B.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Rome, November 16th, 1830.</h3> + +<p>Dear Fanny,</p> + +<p>No post left this the day before yesterday, and I +could not talk to you, so when I remembered that +my letter must necessarily remain two days before +it left Rome, I felt it impossible to write; but I +thought of you times without number, and wished +you every happiness, and congratulated myself that +you were born a certain number of years ago. It is, +indeed, cheering to think what charming, rational +beings, are to be found in the world; and you are +certainly one of these. Continue cheerful, bright, +and well, and make no great change in yourself. I +don't think you require to be much better; may +good fortune ever abide with you!</p> + +<p>And now I think these are all my birthday good +wishes; for really it is not fair to expect that a man +of my <em>calibre</em> should wish you also a fresh stock of +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59"> 59</a></span> +musical ideas; besides you are very unreasonable +in complaining of any deficiency in that respect. +<em>Per Bacco!</em> if you had the inclination, you certainly +have sufficient genius to compose, and if you have +no desire to do so, why grumble so much? If I had +a baby to nurse, I certainly should not write any +scores, and as I have to compose <em>Non Nobis</em>, I +cannot unluckily carry my nephew about in my +arms. But to speak seriously, your child is scarcely +six months old yet, and you can think of anything +but Sebastian?<a name="FNanchor_6" id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> (not Bach!) Be thankful that you +have him. Music only retreats when there is no +longer a place for her, and I am not surprised that +you are not an unnatural mother. However, you +have my best wishes on your birthday, for all that +your heart desires; so I may as well wish you half-a-dozen +melodies into the bargain; not that this +will be of much use.</p> + +<p>In Rome here, we celebrated the 14th of November +by the sky shining, in blue and festive array, +and breathing on us warm genial air. So I went on +pleasantly towards the Capitol and into church, +where I heard a miserable sermon from ——, who +is no doubt a very good man, but to my mind has +a most morose style of preaching; and any one +who could irritate me on <em>such</em> a day, in the Capitol, +and in church, must have an especial talent for so +doing. I afterwards went to call on Bunsen, who +had just arrived. He and his wife received me +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60"> 60</a></span> +most kindly, and we conversed on much that was +interesting, including politics and regrets for your +absence. <em>Apropos</em>, my favourite work that I am +now studying is Goethe's 'Lili's Park,' especially +three portions: "Kehr' ich mich um, und brumm:" +then, "Eh la menotte;" and best of all, "Die ganze +Luft ist warm, ist blüthevoll," where decidedly +clarionets must be introduced. I mean to make it +the subject of a scherzo for a symphony.</p> + +<p>Yesterday, at dinner at Bunsen's, we had among +others a German musician. Oh, heavens! I wish I +were a Frenchman! The man said to me, "Music +must be <em>handled</em> every day." "Why?" replied I, +which rather embarrassed him. He also spoke of +earnest purpose; and said that Spohr had no earnest +purpose, but that he had distinctly discerned gleams +of an earnest purpose in my <em>Tu es Petrus</em>. The +fellow, however, has a small property at Frascati, +and is about to <em>lay down</em> the profession of music. +We have not got so far as that yet!</p> + +<p>After dinner came Catel, Eggers, Senf, Wolf, +then a painter, and then two more, and others. I +played the piano, and they asked for pieces by +Sebastian Bach, so I played numbers of his compositions, +which were much admired. I also explained +clearly to them the mode in which the "Passion" is +executed; for they seemed scarcely to believe it. +Bunsen possesses it, arranged for the piano; he +showed it to the Papal singers, and they said before +witnesses, that such music could not possibly be +executed by human voices. I think the contrary. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61"> 61</a></span> +It seems, however, that Trautwein is about to publish +the score of the Passion of St. John. I suppose +I must order a set of studs for Paris, <em>à la Back</em>.</p> + +<p>To-day Bunsen is to take me to Baini's, whom he +has not seen for a year as he never goes out except +to hear confessions. I am glad to know him, and +shall endeavour to improve my intimacy with him, +for he can solve many an enigma for me. Old +Santini continues as kind as ever. When we are +together in society, if I praise any particular piece +or am not acquainted with it, next morning he is +sure to knock gently at my door, and to bring me +the piece in question carefully wrapped up in a +blue pocket-handkerchief; I, in return, accompany +him home every evening; and we have a great +regard for each other. He also brought me his <em>Te +Deum</em>, written in eight parts, requesting me to +correct some of the modulations, as G major predominates +too much; so I mean to try if I cannot +introduce some A minor or E minor.</p> + +<p>I am now very anxious to become acquainted +with a good many Italians. I visit at the house of +a certain Maestro di San Giovanni Laterano, whose +daughters are musical, but not pretty, so this does +not count for much. If therefore you can send me +letters, pray do so. I work in the morning; at noon +I see and admire, and thus the day glides away till +sunset: but I should like in the evening to associate +with the Roman world. My kind English +friends have arrived from Venice; Lord Harrowby +and his family are to pass the winter here. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62"> 62</a></span> +Schadow, Bendeman, Bunsen, Tippelskirch, all receive +every evening; in short I have no lack of +acquaintances, but I should like to know some +Italians also.</p> + +<p>The present, dear Fanny, that I have prepared +for your birthday, is a psalm, for chorus and orchestra, +<em>Non nobis, Domine</em>. You know the melody +well; there is an air in it which has a good +ending, and the last chorus will I hope please you. +I hear that next week I shall have an opportunity +of sending it to you, along with a quantity of new +music. I intend now to finish my overture, and +then (D.V.) to proceed with my symphony. A +pianoforte concerto, too, that I wish to write for +Paris, begins to float in my head. If Providence +kindly bestows on me success and bright days, I +hope we shall enjoy them together. Farewell! +May you be happy!</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Rome, November 22nd, 1830.</h3> + +<p>My dear Brother and Sisters,</p> + +<p>You know how much I dislike, at a distance of +two hundred miles, and fourteen days' journey from +you, to offer good advice. I mean to do so, however, +for once. Let me tell you therefore of a +mistake in your conduct, and in truth the same that +I once made myself. I do assure you that never in +my life have I known my father write in so irritable +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63"> 63</a></span> +a strain as since I came to Rome, and so I wish to +ask you if you cannot devise some domestic recipe +to cheer him a little? I mean by forbearance and +yielding to his wishes, and in this manner, by allowing +my father's view of any subject to predominate +over your own; then, not to speak at all on topics +that irritate him; and instead of saying shameful, +say unpleasant; or instead of superb, very fair. +This method has often a wonderfully good effect; +and I put it, with all submission to yourselves, +whether it might not be equally successful in this +case? For, with the exception of the great events +of the world, ill-humour often seems to me to proceed +from the same cause that my father's did when +I chose to pursue my own path in my musical +studies. He was then in a constant state of irritation, +incessantly abusing Beethoven and all visionaries; +and this often vexed me very much, and +made me sometimes very unamiable. At that very +time something new came out, which put my father +out of sorts, and made him I believe not a little +uneasy. So long therefore as I persisted in extolling +and exalting my Beethoven, the evil +became daily worse; and one day, if I remember +rightly, I was even sent out of the room. At last, however, +it occurred to me that I might speak a great +deal of truth, and yet avoid the particular truth +obnoxious to my father; so the aspect of affairs +speedily began to improve, and soon all went well.</p> + +<p>Perhaps you may have in some degree forgotten +that you ought now and then to be forbearing, and +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64"> 64</a></span> +not aggressive. My father considers himself both +much older and more irritable than, thank God, he +really is; but it is our duty always to submit our +opinion to his, even if the truth be as much on our +side, as it often is on his, when opposed to us. +Strive, then, to praise what he likes, and do not +attack what is implanted in his heart, more especially +ancient established ideas. Do not commend +what is new till it has made some progress in the +world, and acquired a name, for till then it is a +mere matter of taste. Try to draw my father into +your circle, and be playful and kind to him. In +short, try to smooth and to equalize things; and remember +that I, who am now an experienced man of +the world, never yet knew any family, taking into +due consideration all defects and failings, who have +hitherto lived so happily together as ours.</p> + +<p>Do not send me any answer to this, for you will +not receive it for a month, and by that time no +doubt some fresh topic will have arisen; besides, if +I have spoken nonsense, I do not wish to be scolded +by you; and if I have spoken properly, I hope you +will follow my good advice.</p> + +<h3>November 23rd.</h3> + +<p>Just as I was going to set to work at the "Hebrides," +arrived Herr B——, a musical professor from +Magdeburg. He played me over a whole book of +songs, and an Ave Maria, and begged to have the +benefit of my opinion. I seemed in the position of +a juvenile Nestor, and made him some insipid +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65"> 65</a></span> +speeches, but this caused me the loss of a morning +in Rome, which is a pity. The Choral, "Mitten wir +im Leben sind," is finished, and is certainly one of +the best sacred pieces that I have yet composed. +After I have completed the Hebrides, I think of +arranging Händel's Solomon for future performance, +with proper curtailments, etc. I then purpose +writing the Christmas music of "Vom Himmel +hoch," and the symphony in A minor; perhaps also +some pieces for the piano, and a concerto, etc., just +as they come into my head.</p> + +<p>I own I do sadly miss some friend to whom I could +communicate my new works, and who could examine +the score along with me, and play a bass or a flute; +whereas now when a piece is finished I must lay it +aside in my desk without its giving pleasure to any +one. London spoiled me in this respect. I can +never again expect to meet all together such friends +as I had there. Here I can only say the half of +what I think, and leave the best half unspoken; +whereas there it was not necessary to say more than +the half, because the other half was a mere matter +of course, and already understood. Still, this is a +most delightful place.</p> + +<p>We young people went lately to Albano, and set +off in the most lovely weather. The road to Frascati +passed under the great aqueduct, its dark brown +outlines standing out sharply defined against the +clear blue sky; thence we proceeded to the monastery +at Grotta Ferrata, where there are some beautiful +frescoes by Domenichino; then to Marino, very +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66"> 66</a></span> +picturesquely situated on a hill, and proceeding +along the margin of the lake we reached Castel Gandolfo. +The scenery, like my first impression of Italy, +is by no means so striking or so wonderfully beautiful +as is generally supposed, but most pleasing and +gratifying to the eye, and the outlines undulating +and picturesque, forming a perfect whole, with its +<em>entourage</em> and distribution of light.</p> + +<p>Here I must deliver a eulogy on monks; they +finish a picture at once, giving it tone and colour, +with their wide loose gowns, their pious meditative, +gait, and their dark aspect. A beautiful shady +avenue of evergreen oaks runs along the lake from +Castel Gandolfo to Albano, where monks of every +order are swarming, animating the scenery and yet +marking its solitude. Near the city a couple of +begging monks were walking together; further on, a +whole troop of young Jesuits; then we saw an elegant +young priest in a thicket reading; beyond this +two more were standing in the wood with their guns, +watching for birds. Then we came to a monastery, +encircled by a number of small chapels. At last all +was solitude; but at that moment appeared a dirty, +stupid-looking Capuchin, laden with huge nosegays, +which he placed before the various shrines, kneeling +down in front of them before proceeding to decorate +them.</p> + +<p>As we passed on, we met two old prelates engaged +in eager conversation. The bell for vespers was +ringing in the monastery of Albano, and even on +the summit of the highest hill stands a Passionist +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67"> 67</a></span> +convent, where they are only permitted to speak for +a single hour daily, and occupy themselves solely in +reading the history of the passion of Christ. In +Albano, among girls with pitchers on their heads, +vendors of flowers and vegetables, and all the crowd +and tumult, we saw a coal-black dumb monk, returning +to Monte Cavo, who formed a singular contrast +to the rest of the scene. They seem to have taken +entire possession of all this splendid country, and +form a strange melancholy ground-tone for all that +is lively, gay, and free, and the ever-living cheerfulness +bestowed by nature. It is as if men, on that +very account, required a counterpoise. This is not +however my case, and I need no contrast to enable +me to enjoy what I see.</p> + +<p>I am often with Bunsen, and as he likes to turn +the conversation on the subject of his Liturgy and +its musical portions, which I consider very deficient, +I am perfectly plain-spoken, and give him a straight-forward +opinion; and I believe this is the only way +to establish a mutual understanding. We have had +several long, serious discussions, and I hope we +shall eventually know each other better. Yesterday +Palestrina's music was performed at Bunsen's house +(as on every Monday), and then for the first time I +played before the Roman musicians <em>in corpore</em>. I +am quite aware of the necessity in every foreign city +of playing so as to make myself understood by the +audience. This makes me usually feel rather embarrassed, +and such was the case with me yesterday. +After the Papal singers finished Palestrina's music, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68"> 68</a></span> +it was my turn to play something. A brilliant piece +would have been unsuitable, and there had been +more than enough of serious music; I therefore +begged Astolfi, the Director, to give me a theme, so +he lightly touched the notes with one finger thus:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/086.jpg" width="300" height="60" alt="music086" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/086a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>smiling as he did so. The black-frocked Abbati +pressed round me and seemed highly delighted. I +observed this, and it inspirited me so much that +towards the end I succeeded famously; they clapped +their hands like mad, and Bunsen declared that I +had astounded the clergy; in short, the affair went +off well. There is no encouraging prospect of any +public performance here, so society is the only resource, +which is fishing in troubled waters.</p> + +<p class="right">Yours, <span class="smcap">Felix</span>.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Rome, November 30th, 1830.</h3> + +<p>To come home from Bunsen's by moonlight, with +your letter in my pocket, and then to read it through +leisurely at night,—this is a degree of pleasure I +wish many may enjoy. In all probability I shall stay +here the whole winter, and not go to Naples till +April. It is so delightful to look round on every +side, and to appreciate it all properly. There is +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69"> 69</a></span> +much that must be thought over, in order to receive +a due impression from it. I have also within myself +so much work requiring both quiet and industry, +that I feel anything like haste would be utter destruction; +and though I adhere faithfully to my +system, to receive each day only one fresh image +into my mind, still I am sometimes compelled even +then to give myself a day of rest, that I may not +become confused. I write you a short letter to-day, +because I must for the present adhere to my work; +and yet I cannot refrain from culling all the beauty +that lies at my feet. The weather, too, is <em>brutto</em> +and cold, so that I am not in a very communicative +mood. The Pope is dying, or possibly dead by this +time. "We shall soon get a new one," say the +Italians, coolly. His death will not affect the Carnival, +nor the church festivals, with their pomps +and processions, and fine music; and as there will +be in addition to these, solemn requiems, and the +lying-in-state at St. Peter's, they care little about it, +provided it does not occur in February.</p> + +<p>I am delighted to hear that Mantius sings my +songs, and likes them. Give him my kind regards, +and ask him why he does not perform his promise, +and write to me. I have written to him repeatedly +in the shape of music. In the "Ave Maria," and in +the choral "Aus tiefer Noth," some passages are +composed expressly for him, and he will sing them +charmingly. In the "Ave," which is a salutation, +a tenor solo takes the lead of the choir (I thought +of a disciple all the time). As the piece is in A +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70"> 70</a></span> +major, and goes rather high at the words <em>Benedicta +tu</em>, he must prepare his high A; it will vibrate +well. Ask him to sing you a song I sent to Devrient +from Venice, "Von schlechtem Lebenswandel." +It is expressive of mingled joy and despair; no +doubt he will sing it well. Show it to no one, but +confine it solely to forty eyes. Ritz<a name="FNanchor_7" id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> too never +writes, and yet I am constantly longing for his violin +and his depth of feeling when he plays, which +all recurs to my mind when I see his welcome writing. +I am now working daily at the "Hebrides," +and will send it to Ritz as soon as it is finished. It +is quite a piece to suit him—so very singular.</p> + +<p>Next time I write I will tell you more of myself. +I work hard, and lead a pleasant, happy life; my +mirror is stuck full of Italian, German, and English +visiting-cards, and I spend every evening with one +of my acquaintances. There is a truly Babylonian +confusion of tongues in my head, for English, +Italian, German and French are all mixed up together +in it. Two days ago I again extemporized +before the Papal singers. The fellows had contrived +to get hold of the most strange, quaint +theme for me, wishing to put my powers to the test. +They call me, however, <em>l'insuperabile professorone</em>, +and are particularly kind and friendly. I much +wished to have described to you the Sunday music in +the Sistina, a <em>soirée</em> at Torlonia's, the Vatican, St. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71"> 71</a></span> +Onofrio, Guido's Aurora, and other small matters, +but I reserve them for my next letter. The post +is about to set off, and this letter with it. My +good wishes are always with you, to-day and ever.</p> + +<p class="right">Yours, <span class="smcap">Felix</span>.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Rome, December 7th, 1830.</h3> + +<p>I cannot even to-day manage to write to you as +fully as I wish. Heaven knows how time flies here! +I was introduced this week to several agreeable +English families, and so I have the prospect of many +pleasant evenings this winter. I am much with +Bunsen. I intend also to cultivate Baini. I think +he conceives me to be only a <em>brutissimo Tedesco</em>, so +that I have a famous opportunity of becoming well +acquainted with him. His compositions are certainly +of no great value, and the same may be said of the +whole music here. The wish is not wanting, but the +means do not exist. The orchestra is below contempt. +Mdlle. Carl,<a name="FNanchor_8" id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> (who is engaged as <em>prima +donna assoluta</em> for the season, at both the principal +theatres here,) is now arrived, and begins to make +<em>la pluie et le beau temps</em>. The Papal singers even +are becoming old; they are almost all unmusical, +and do not execute even the most established pieces +in tune. The whole choir consists of thirty-two +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72"> 72</a></span> +singers, but that number are rarely together. Concerts +are given by the so-called Philharmonic Society, +but only with the piano. There is no orchestra, and +when recently they wished to perform Haydn's +"Creation," the instrumentalists declared it was +impossible to play it. The sounds they bring out of +their wind instruments, are such as in Germany we +have no conception of.</p> + +<p>The Pope is dead, and the Conclave assembles on +the 14th. A great part of the winter will be occupied +with the ceremonies of his funeral, and the enthronement +of the new Pope. All music therefore +and large parties must be at an end, so I very much +doubt whether I shall be able to undertake any public +performance during my stay here; but I do not +regret this, for there are so many varied objects to +enjoy inwardly, that my dwelling on these and meditating +on them is no disadvantage. The performance +of Graun's "Passion" in Naples, and more especially +the translation of Sebastian Bach's, prove that the +good cause is sure eventually to make its way, +though it will neither kindle enthusiasm, nor will it +be appreciated. It is no worse however with regard +to music—in fact, rather better—than with their +estimate of every other branch of the fine arts; for +when some of Raphael's Loggie are with inconceivable +recklessness and disgraceful barbarism actually +defaced, to give place to inscriptions in pencil; when +the lower parts of the arabesques are totally destroyed, +because Italians with knives, and Heaven +knows what else besides, inscribe their insignificant +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73"> 73</a></span> +names there; when one person painted in large +letters under the Apollo Belvedere, 'Christ;' when +an altar has been erected in front of Michael Angelo's +"Last Judgment," so large that it hides the +centre of the picture, thus destroying the whole +effect; when cattle are driven through the splendid +saloons of the Villa Madama, the walls of which are +painted by Giulio Romano, and fodder is stored in +them, simply from indifference towards the beautiful,—all +this is certainly much worse than a bad orchestra, +and painters must be even more distressed +by such things than I am by their miserable music.</p> + +<p>The fact is, that the people are mentally enervated +and apathetic. They have a religion, but +they do not believe in it; they have a Pope and a +Government, but they turn them into ridicule; they +can recall a brilliant and heroic past, but they do +not value it. It is thus no marvel that they do not +delight in Art, for they are indifferent to all that is +earnest. It is really quite revolting to see their +unconcern about the death of the Pope, and their +unseemly merriment during the ceremonies. I myself +saw the corpse lying in state, and the priests +standing round incessantly whispering and laughing; +and at this moment, when masses are being +said for his soul, they are in the very same church +hammering away at the scaffolding of the catafalque, +so that the strokes of the hammers and the noise of +the workpeople entirely prevent any one hearing +the religious services. As soon as the Cardinals +assemble in conclave, satires appear against them, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74"> 74</a></span> +where, for instance, they parody the Litanies, and instead +of praying to be delivered from each particular +sin, they name the bad qualities of each well-known +cardinal; or, again, they perform an entire opera, +where all the characters are Cardinals, one being +the <em>primo amoroso</em>, another the <em>tiranno assoluto</em>, a +third, stage candle-snuffer, etc. This could not be +the case where the people took any pleasure in Art. +Formerly it was no better, but they had faith then; +and it is this which makes the difference. Nature, +however, and the genial December atmosphere, and +the outlines of the Alban hills, stretching as far as +the sea, all remain unchanged. There they can +scribble no names, or compose no inscriptions. +These every one can still individually enjoy in all +their freshness, and to these I cling. I feel much +the want of a <em>friend</em> here, to whom I could freely +unbosom myself; who could read my music as I +write it, thus making it doubly precious in my +eyes; in whose society I could feel an interest, and +enjoy repose; and honestly learn from him, (it would +not require a very wise man for this purpose.) But +just as trees are not ordained to grow up into the +sky, so probably such a man is not likely to be +found here; and the good fortune I have hitherto +so richly enjoyed elsewhere, is not to fall to my +share at present; so I must hum over my melodies +to myself, and I dare say I shall do well enough.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75"> 75</a></span></p> + +<h3>Rome, December 10th, 1830.</h3> + +<p>Dear Father,</p> + +<p>It is a year this very day since we kept your +birthday at Hensel's, and now let me give you some +account of Rome, as I did at that time of London. +I intend to finish my Overture to the "Einsame +Insel"<a name="FNanchor_9" id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> as a present to you, and if I write under it +the 11th December, when I take up the sheets I +shall feel as if I were about to place them in your +hands. You would probably say that you could not +read them, but still I should have offered you the +best it was in my power to give; and though I +desire to do this every day, still there is a peculiar +feeling connected with a birthday. Would I were +with you! I need not offer you my good wishes, +for you know them all already, and the deep interest +I, and all of us, take in your happiness and welfare, +and that we cannot wish any good for you, that is +not reflected doubly on ourselves. To-day is a holiday. +I rejoice in thinking how cheerful you are at +home; and when I repeat to you how happily I +live here, I feel as if this were also a felicitation. +A period like this, when serious thought and enjoyment +are combined, is indeed most cheering and +invigorating. Every time I enter my room I rejoice +that I am not obliged to pursue my journey on the +following day, and that I may quietly postpone +many things till the morrow—that I am in Rome! +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76"> 76</a></span> +Hitherto much that passed through my brain was +swept away by fresh ideas, each new impression +chasing away the previous one, while here, on the +contrary, they are all in turn properly developed. +I never remember having worked with so much zeal, +and if I am to complete all that I have projected, I +must be very industrious during the winter. I am +indeed deprived of the great delight of showing my +finished compositions to one who could take pleasure +in them, and enter into them along with me; +but this impels me to return to my labours, which +please me most when I am fairly in the midst of +them. And now this must be combined with the +various solemnities, and festivals of every kind, +which are to supplant my work for a few days; and +as I have resolved to see and to enjoy all I possibly +can, I do not allow my occupation to prevent this, +and shall then return with fresh zeal to my composition.</p> + +<p>This is indeed a delightful existence! My health +is as good as possible, though the hot wind, called +here the <em>sirocco</em>, rather attacks my nerves, and I +find I must beware of playing the piano much, or +at night; besides it is easy for me to refrain from +doing so for a few days, as for some weeks past I +have been playing almost every evening. Bunsen, +who often warns me against playing if I find it prejudicial, +gave a large party yesterday, where nevertheless +I was obliged to play; but it was a pleasure +to me, for I had the opportunity of making so many +agreeable acquaintances. Thorwaldsen, in particular, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77"> 77</a></span> +expressed himself in so gratifying a manner +with regard to me, that I felt quite proud, for I +honor him as one of the greatest of men, and +always have revered him. He looks like a lion, +and the very sight of his face is invigorating. You +feel at once that he must be a noble artist; his +eyes look so clear, as if with him every object must +assume a definite form and image. Moreover he is +very gentle, and kind, and mild, because his nature +is so superior; and yet he seems to be able to enjoy +every trifle. It is a real source of pleasure to see +a great man, and to know that the creator of works +that will endure for ever stands before you in person; +a living being with all his attributes, and +individuality, and genius, and yet a man like others.</p> + +<h3>December 11th, morning.</h3> + +<p>Now your actual birthday is arrived! A few +lines of music suggested themselves to me on the +occasion, and though they may not be worth much, +the congratulations I have been in the habit of offering, +were of quite as little value. Fanny may add +the second part. I have only written what occurred +to my mind as I entered the room, the sun shining, +on your birthday:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/095.jpg" width="300" height="126" alt="music095a" /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78"> 78</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/096.jpg" width="300" height="486" alt="music095a" /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_79"> 79</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/097.jpg" width="300" height="466" alt=" music095a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/095a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80"> 80</a></span> +Bunsen has just been here, and begs me to send +you his best regards and congratulations. He is all +kindness and courtesy towards me, and as you wish +to know, I think I may say that we suit each other +remarkably well. The few words you wrote about +P—— recalled him to my memory in all his offensiveness. +The Abbate Santini ought to be an +obscure man compared with him, for he never +attempts to magnify his own importance by impertinence +or self-sufficiency. P—— is one of those +collectors who make learning and libraries distasteful +to others by their narrow-mindedness, whereas +Santini is a genuine collector, in the best sense of +the word, caring little whether his collection be of +much value in a pecuniary point of view. He therefore +gives everything away indiscriminately, and is +only anxious to procure something new, for his chief +object is the diffusion and universal knowledge of +ancient music. I have not seen him lately, as every +morning now he figures, <em>ex officio</em>, in his violet gown +at St. Peter's; but if he has made use of some ancient +text, he will say so without scruple, as he has +no wish to be thought the first discoverer. He is, +in fact, a man of limited capacity; and this I consider +great praise in a certain sense, for though he is +neither a musical nor any other luminary, and even +bears some resemblance to Lessing's inquisitive friar, +still he knows how to confine himself within his own +sphere. Music itself does not interest him much, if +he can only have it on his shelves; and he is, and +esteems himself to be, simply a quiet, zealous collector. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81"> 81</a></span> +I must admit that he is fatiguing, and not +altogether free from irritability; still I love any one +who adopts and perseveres in some particular pursuit, +prosecuting it to the best of his ability, and +endeavouring to perfect it for the benefit of mankind, +and I think every one ought to esteem him just the +same, whether he chance to be tiresome or agreeable.</p> + +<p>I wish you would read this aloud to P——. It +always makes me furious when men who have no +pursuit, presume to criticize those who wish to effect +something, even on a small scale; so on this very +account I took the liberty of rebuking lately a certain +musician in society here. He began to speak +of Mozart, and as Bunsen and his sister love Palestrina, +he tried to flatter their tastes by asking me, +for instance, what I thought of the worthy Mozart, +and all his sins. I however replied, that so far as I +was concerned, I should feel only too happy to renounce +all <em>my</em> virtues in exchange for Mozart's sins: +but that of course I could not venture to pronounce +on the extent of <em>his</em> virtues. The people all laughed, +and were highly amused. How strange it is that +such persons should feel no awe of so great a name!</p> + +<p>It is some consolation, however, that it is the same +in every sphere of art, as the painters here are quite +as bad. They are most formidable to look at, sitting +in their <em>Café Greco</em>. I scarcely ever go there, for +I dislike both them and their favourite places of resort. +It is a small dark room, about eight feet +square, where on one side you may smoke, but not +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82"> 82</a></span> +on the other; so they sit round on benches, with +their broad-leaved hats on their heads, and their +huge mastiffs beside them; their cheeks and throats, +and the whole of their faces covered with hair, puffing +forth clouds of smoke (only on one side of the +room), and saying rude things to each other, while +the mastiffs swarm with vermin. A neckcloth or a +coat would be quite innovations. Any portion of +the face visible through the beard, is hid by spectacles; +so they drink coffee, and speak of Titian and +Pordenone, just as if they were sitting beside them, +and also wore beards and wide-awakes! Moreover, +they paint such sickly Madonnas and feeble saints, +and such milk-sop heroes, that I feel the strongest +inclination to knock them down. These infernal +critics do not even shrink from discussing Titian's +picture in the Vatican, about which you asked me; +they say that it has neither subject nor meaning; yet +it never seems to occur to them, that a master who +had so long studied a picture with due love and +reverence, must have had quite as deep an insight +into the subject as they are likely to have, even with +their coloured spectacles. And if in the course of +my life I accomplish nothing but this, I am at all +events determined to say the most harsh and cutting +things to those who show no reverence towards their +masters, and then I shall at least have performed +one good work. But there they stand, and see all +the splendour of those creations, so far transcending +their own conceptions, and yet dare to criticize them.</p> + +<p>In this picture there are three stages, or whatever +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83"> 83</a></span> +they are called the same as in the "Transfiguration." +Below, saints and martyrs are represented in suffering +and abasement; on every face is depicted sadness, +nay almost impatience; one figure in rich +episcopal robes looks upwards, with the most eager +and agonized longing, as if weeping, but he cannot +see all that is floating above his head, but which <em>we</em> +see, standing in front of the picture. Above, Mary +and her Child are in a cloud, radiant with joy, and +surrounded by angels, who have woven many garlands; +the Holy Child holds one of these, and seems +as if about to crown the saints beneath, but his +Mother withholds his hand for the moment. The +contrast between the pain and suffering below, +whence St. Sebastian looks forth out of the picture +with such gloom and almost apathy, and the lofty +unalloyed exultation in the clouds above, where +crowns and palms are already awaiting him, is truly +admirable. High above the group of Mary, hovers +the Holy Spirit, from whom emanates a bright +streaming light, thus forming the apex of the whole +composition. I have just remembered that Goethe, +at the beginning of his first visit to Rome, describes +and admires this picture; but I no longer have the +book to enable me to read it over, and to compare +my description with his. He speaks of it in considerable +detail. It was at that time in the Quirinal, +and subsequently transferred to the Vatican; +whether it was painted on a given subject, as some +allege, or not, is of no moment. Titian has imbued +it with his genius and his poetical feeling, and has +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84"> 84</a></span> +thus made it his own. I like Schadow much, and am +often with him; on every occasion, and especially in +his own department, he is mild and clear-judging, +doing justice with due modesty to all that is truly +great; he recently said that Titian had never painted +an indifferent or an uninteresting picture, and I believe +he is right; for life and enthusiasm and the soundest +vigour are displayed in all his productions, and where +these are, it is good to be also. There is one singular +and fortunate peculiarity here: though all the +objects have been, a thousand times over, described, +discussed, copied, and criticized, in praise or blame, +by the greatest masters, and the most insignificant +scholars, cleverly or stupidly, still they never fail to +make a fresh and sublime impression on all, affecting +each person according to his own individuality. +Here we can take refuge from man in all that surrounds +us; in Berlin it is often exactly the reverse.</p> + +<p>I have this moment received your letter of the +27th, and am pleased to find that I have already +answered many of the questions it contains. There +is no hurry about the letters I asked for, as I have +now made almost more acquaintances than I +wish; besides, late hours, and playing so much, do +not suit me in Rome, so I can await the arrival of +these letters very patiently: it was not so at the +time I urged you to send them. I cannot however +understand what you mean by your allusion to +<em>coteries</em> which I ought to have outgrown, for I +know that I, and all of us, invariably dreaded and +detested what is usually so called,—that is, a +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85"> 85</a></span> +frivolous, exclusive circle of society, clinging to +empty outward forms. Among persons, however, +who daily meet, while their mutual objects of +interest remain the same, who have no sympathy +with public life (and this is certainly the case +in Berlin, with the exception of the theatre), it is +not unnatural that they should form for themselves +a gay, cheerful, and original mode of treating passing +events, and that this should give rise to a +peculiar, and perhaps monotonous style of conversation; +but this by no means constitutes a <em>coterie</em>. +I feel convinced that I shall never belong to one, +whether I am in Rome or Wittenberg. I am glad +that the last words I was writing when your letter +arrived, chanced to be that in Berlin you must take +refuge in society from all that surrounds you; thus +proving that I had no spirit of <em>coterie</em>, which invariably +estranges men from each other. I should +deeply regret your observing anything of the kind +in me or in any of us, except indeed for the moment. +Forgive me, my dear father, for defending myself +so warmly, but this word is most repugnant to my +feelings, and you say in your letters that I am always +to speak out what I think in a straightforward +manner, so pray do not take this amiss.</p> + +<p>I was in St. Peter's to-day, where the grand +solemnities called the absolutions have begun for +the Pope, and which last till Tuesday, when the +Cardinals assemble in conclave. The building surpasses +all powers of description. It appears to me +like some great work of nature, a forest, a mass of +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86"> 86</a></span> +rocks, or something similar; for I never can realize +the idea that it is the work of man. You strive to +distinguish the ceiling as little as the canopy of +heaven. You lose your way in St. Peter's, you +take a walk in it, and ramble till you are quite +tired; when divine service is performed and chanted +there, you are not aware of it till you come quite +close. The angels in the Baptistery are monstrous +giants; the doves, colossal birds of prey; you lose +all idea of measurement with the eye, or proportion; +and yet who does not feel his heart expand, +when standing under the dome, and gazing up at +it? At present a monstrous catafalque has been +erected in the nave in this shape.<a name="FNanchor_10" id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> The coffin is +placed in the centre under the pillars; the thing is +totally devoid of taste, and yet it has a wondrous +effect. The upper circle is thickly studded with +lights, so are all the ornaments; the lower circle is +lighted in the same way, and over the coffin hangs +a burning lamp, and innumerable lights are blazing +under the statues. The whole structure is more +than a hundred feet high, and stands exactly opposite +the entrance. The guards of honour, and the +Swiss, march about in the quadrangle; in every +corner sits a Cardinal in deep mourning, attended +by his servants, who hold large burning torches, +and then the singing commences with responses, in +the simple and monotonous tone you no doubt remember. +It is the only occasion when there is any +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87"> 87</a></span> +singing in the middle of the church, and the effect +is wonderful. Those who place themselves among +the singers (as I do) and watch them, are forcibly +impressed by the scene: for they all stand round a +colossal book from which they sing, and this book +is in turn lit up by a colossal torch that burns +before it; while the choir are eagerly pressing forward +in their vestments, in order to see and to sing +properly: and Baini with his monk's face, marking +time with his hand, and occasionally joining in the +chant with a stentorian voice. To watch all these +different Italian faces, was most interesting; one +enjoyment quickly succeeds another here, and it is +the same in their churches, especially in St. Peter's, +where by moving a few steps the whole scene is +changed. I went to the very furthest end, whence +there was indeed a wonderful <em>coup d'œil</em>. Through +the spiral columns of the high altar, which is confessedly +as high as the palace in Berlin, far beyond +the space of the cupola, the whole mass of the +catafalque was seen in diminished perspective, with +its rows of lights, and numbers of small human +beings crowding round it. When the music commences, +the sounds do not reach the other end for +a long time, but echo and float in the vast space, +so that the most singular and vague harmonies are +borne towards you. If you change your position, +and place yourself right in front of the catafalque, +beyond the blaze of light and the brilliant pageantry, +you have the dusky cupola replete with blue vapour; +all this is quite indescribable. Such is Rome!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88"> 88</a></span> +This has become a long letter, so I must conclude; +it will reach you on Christmas-day. May +you all enjoy it happily! I send each of you presents, +which are to be dispatched two days hence, +and will arrive in time for the anniversary of your +silver wedding-day. Many glad festivals are thus +crowded together, and I scarcely know whether to +imagine myself with you to-day, and to wish you, +dear father, all possible happiness, or to arrive with +my letter at Christmas, and not to be allowed by +my mother to pass through the room with the +Christmas-tree. I am afraid I must be contented +with thinking of you.—Farewell all! May you be +happy!</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<p>I have just received your letter, which brings me +the intelligence of Goethe's illness. What I personally +feel at this news I cannot express. This +whole evening his words, "I must try to keep all +right till your return," have sounded continually in +my ears, to the exclusion of every other thought: +when he is gone, Germany will assume a very +different aspect for artists. I have never thought +of Germany without feeling heartfelt joy and pride +that Goethe lived there; and the rising generation +seem for the most part so weakly and feeble, that it +makes my heart sink within me. He is the last; +and with him closes a happy prosperous period for +us! This year ends in solemn sadness.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89"> 89</a></span></p> + +<h3>Rome, December 20th, 1830.</h3> + +<p>In my former letter I told you of the more serious +aspect of Roman life; but as I wish to describe to +you how I live, I must now tell you of the gayeties +that have prevailed during this week.</p> + +<p>To-day we have the most genial sunshine, a blue +sky, and a transparent atmosphere, and on such days +I have my own mode of passing my time. I work +hard till eleven o'clock, and from that hour till +dark, I do nothing but breathe the air. For the +first time, for some days past, we yesterday had +fine weather. After therefore working for a time +in the morning at "Solomon," I went to the Monte +Pincio, where I rambled about the whole day. The +effect of this exhilarating air is quite magical; and +when I arose to-day, and again saw bright sunshine, +I exulted in the thoughts of the entire idleness I +was again about to indulge in. The whole world is +on foot, revelling in a December spring. Every +moment you meet some acquaintance, with whom +you lounge about for a time, then leave him, and +once more enjoy your solitary revery. There are +swarms of handsome faces to be seen. As the sun +declines, the appearance of the whole landscape, +and every hue, undergo a change. When the Ave +Maria sounds, it is time to go to the church of +Trinità de' Monti, where French nuns sing; and it +is charming to hear them. I declare to heaven that +I am become quite tolerant, and listen to bad music +with edification; but what can I do? the composition +is positively ridiculous; the organ playing even +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90"> 90</a></span> +more absurd. But it is twilight, and the whole of +the small bright church is filled with persons kneeling, +lit up by the sinking sun each time that the +door is opened; both the singing nuns have the +sweetest voices in the world, quite tender and +touching, more especially when one of them sings +the responses in her melodious voice, which we are +accustomed to hear chanted by priests in a loud, +harsh, monotonous tone. The impression is very +singular; moreover, it is well known that no one is +permitted to see the fair singers,—so this caused me +to form a strange resolution. I have composed +something to suit their voices, which I observed +very minutely, and I mean to send it to them,—there +are several modes to which I can have recourse +to accomplish this. That they will sing it, +I feel quite assured; and it will be pleasant for me +to hear my chant performed by persons whom I +never saw, especially as they must in turn sing it to +the <em>barbaro Tedesco</em>, whom they also never beheld. +I am charmed with this idea. The text is in Latin,—a +Prayer to Mary. Does not this notion please +you?<a name="FNanchor_11" id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></p> + +<p>After church I walk again on the hill until it is +quite dark, when Madame Vernet and her daughter, +and pretty Madame V—— (for whose acquaintance +I have to thank Roesel), are much admired by us +Germans, and we form groups round them, or follow, +or walk beside them. The background is +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91"> 91</a></span> +formed by haggard painters with terrific beards; +they smoke tobacco on the Monte Pincio, whistle to +their huge dogs, and enjoy the sunset in their own +way.</p> + +<p>As I am in a frivolous mood to-day, I must relate +to you, dear sisters, every particular of a ball I +lately attended, and where I danced with a degree +of zeal I never did before. I had spoken a few fair +words to the <em>maître de danse</em> (who stands in the +middle here, and regulates everything), consequently +he allowed the galop to continue for more than half +an hour, so I was in my element, and pleasantly +conscious that I was dancing in the Palazzo Albani, +in Rome, and also with the prettiest girl in it, +according to the verdict of the competent judges +(Thorwaldsen, Vernet, etc.) The way in which I became +acquainted with her is also an anecdote of +Rome. I was at Torlonia's first ball, though not dancing, +as I knew none of the ladies present, but merely +looking at the people. Suddenly some one tapped +me on the shoulder, saying, "So you also are admiring +the English beauty; I am quite dazzled." It +was Thorwaldsen himself standing at the door, lost +in admiration; scarcely had he said this, when we +heard a torrent of words behind us,—"Mais où +est-elle donc, cette petite Anglaise? Ma femme +m'a envoyé pour la regarder. Per Bacco!" It +was quite clear that this little thin Frenchman, with +stiff, grey hair, and the ribbon of the Legion of +Honour, must be Horace Vernet. He now discussed +the youthful beauty with Thorwaldsen, in the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92"> 92</a></span> +most earnest and scientific manner; and it was +quite a pleasure to me to see these two old masters +admiring the young girl together, while she was +dancing away, quite unconcerned. They were then +presented to her parents, but I felt very insignificant, +as I could not join in the conversation. A +few days afterwards, however, I was with some +acquaintances whom I knew through the Attwoods, +at Venice, they having invited me for the purpose +of presenting me to some of their friends; and +these friends turned out to be the very persons I +have been speaking of; so your son and brother was +highly delighted.</p> + +<p>My pianoforte playing is a source of great gratification +to me here. You know how Thorwaldsen +loves music, and I sometimes play to him in the +morning while he is at work. He has an excellent +instrument in his studio, and when I look at the +old gentleman and see him kneading his brown +clay, and delicately fining off an arm, or a fold of +drapery,—in short, when he is creating what we must +all admire when completed, as an enduring work,—then +I do indeed rejoice that I have the means of +bestowing any enjoyment on him. Nevertheless, I +have not fallen into arrear with my own tasks. +The "Hebrides" is completed at last, and a strange +production it is. The chant for the nuns is in my +head; and I think of composing Luther's choral +for Christmas, but on this occasion I must do so +quite alone; and it will be a more serious affair this +time, and so will the anniversary of your silver +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93"> 93</a></span> +wedding-day, when I intend to have a great many +lights, and to sing my "Liederspiel," and to have a +peep at my English <em>bâton</em>. After the new year, I +intend to resume instrumental music, and to write +several things for the piano, and probably a symphony +of some kind, for two have been haunting my +brain.</p> + +<p>I have lately frequented a most delightful spot,—the +tomb of Cecilia Metella. The Sabine hills had +a sprinkling of snow, but it was glorious sunshine; +the Alban hills were like a dream or a vision. +There is no such thing as distance in Italy, for all +the houses on the hills can be counted, with their +roofs and windows. I have thus inhaled this air to +satiety; and to-morrow in all probability, more +serious occupations will be resumed, for the sky is +cloudy, and it is raining hard, but what a spring +this will be!</p> + +<h3>December 21st.</h3> + +<p>This is the shortest day, and very gloomy, as might +have been anticipated; so to-day nothing can be +thought of but fugues, chorals, balls, etc. But I +must say a few words about Guido's "Aurora," +which I often visit; it is a picture the very type of +haste and impetus; for surely no man ever imagined +such hurry and tumult, such sounding and clashing. +Painters maintain that it is lighted from two sides,—they +have my full permission to light <em>theirs</em> from +three if it will improve them,—but the difference +lies elsewhere.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94"> 94</a></span> +I really cannot compose a tolerable song here, for +who is there to sing it to me? But I am writing a +grand fugue, "Wir glauben all," and sing it to myself +in such a fashion that my friend the Captain +rushes downstairs in alarm, puts in his head, and +asks what I want. I answer—a counter theme. +But how much I do really want; and yet how much +I have got! Thus life passes onwards.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Rome, December 28th, 1830.</h3> + +<p>Rome in wet weather is the most odious, uncomfortable +place imaginable. For some days past we +have had incessant storms and cold, and streams of +water from the sky; and I can scarcely comprehend +how, only one week ago, I could write you a letter +full of rambles and orange-trees and all that is +beautiful: in such weather as this everything becomes +ugly. Still, I must write to you about it, +otherwise my previous letter would not have the +advantage of contrast, and of that there is no lack. +If in Germany we can form no conception of the +bright winter days here, quite as little can we realize +a really wet winter day in Rome; everything is +arranged for fine weather, so the bad is borne like a +public calamity, and in the hope of better times. +There is no shelter anywhere; in my room, which is +usually so comfortable, the water pours in through +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95"> 95</a></span> +the windows, which will not shut fast; the wind +whistles through the doors, which will not close; the +stone floor chills you in spite of double mattings, +and the smoke from the chimney is driven into the +room, because the fire will not burn; foreigners +shiver and freeze here like tailors.</p> + +<p>All this is, however, actual luxury when compared +with the streets; and when I am obliged to go out, +I consider it a positive misfortune. Rome, as every +one knows, is built on seven large hills; but there +are a number of smaller ones besides, and all the +streets are sloping, so the water pours down them, +and rushes towards you; nowhere is there a raised +footpath, or a <em>trottoir</em>; at the stair of the Piazza di +Spagna, there is a flood like the great water-works +in Wilhelms-Höhe; the Tiber has overflowed its +banks, and inundated the adjacent streets: this, +then, is the water from below. From above come +violent showers of rain, but that is the least part. +The houses have no water-spouts, and the long roofs +slant precipitously, but, being of different lengths, +this causes an incessant violent inundation on both +sides of the street, so that go where you will, close +to the houses, or in the middle of the streets, beside +a barber's shop or a palace, you are sure to be deluged, +and, quite unawares, you find yourself standing +under a tremendous shower-bath, the water pelting +on your umbrella, while a stream is running before +you that you cannot jump over, so you are obliged +to return the way you came: this is the water overhead. +Then the carriages drive as rapidly as possible, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_96"> 96</a></span> +and close to the houses, so that you must retreat +into the doorways till they are past; they not only +splash men and houses, but each other, so that when +two meet, one must drive into the gutter, which, +being a rapid current, the consequences are lamentable. +Lately I saw an Abbate hurrying along, whose +umbrella chancing to knock off the broad-brimmed +hat of a peasant, it fell with the crown exposed to +one of these deluges, and when the man went to pick +it up, it was quite filled with water. "Scusi," said +the Abbate. "Padronè," replied the peasant. The +hackney coaches moreover only ply till five o'clock, +so if you go to a party at night, it costs you a scudo. +<em>Fiat justitia et pereat mundus</em>—Rome in rainy +weather is vastly disagreeable.</p> + +<p>I see by a letter of Devrient's, that one I wrote +to him from Venice, and which I took to the post +myself on the 17th of October, had not reached +him on the 19th of November. It would appear +also, that another which I sent the same day to +Munich had not arrived; both these letters contained +music, and this accounts for the loss. At +that very time in Venice they carried off all my +manuscripts to the Custom-house, after visiting my +effects at night, shortly before the departure of the +post, and I only received them again here, after +much worry and writing backwards and forwards. +Every one assured me that the cause of this was a +secret correspondence being suspected in cipher in +the manuscript music. I could scarcely credit such +intolerable stupidity; but as my two letters from +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_97"> 97</a></span> +Venice containing music have not arrived, and +these only, the thing is clear enough. I intend +to complain of this to the Austrian ambassador +here, but it will do no good, and the letters are +lost, which I much regret. Farewell!</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Rome, January 17th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>For a week past we have had the most lovely +spring weather. Young girls are carrying about +nosegays of violets and anemones, which they +gather early in the morning at the Villa Pamfili. +The streets and squares swarm with gaily attired +pedestrians; the Ave Maria has already been +advanced twenty minutes, but what is become of +the winter? Some little time ago it indeed reminded +me of my work, to which I now mean to +apply steadily, for I own that during the gay social +life of the previous weeks, I had rather neglected +it. I have nearly completed the arrangement of +"Solomon," and also my Christmas anthem, which +consists of five numbers; the two symphonies also +begin to assume a more definite form, and I particularly +wish to finish them here. Probably I shall be +able to accomplish this during Lent, when parties +cease (especially balls) and spring begins, and then +I shall have both time and inclination to compose, +in which case I hope to have a good store of new +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_98"> 98</a></span> +works. Any performance of them here is quite out +of the question. The orchestras are worse than +any one could believe; both musicians, and a right +feeling for music, are wanting. The two or three +violin performers play just as they choose, and join +in when they please; the wind instruments are +tuned either too high or too low; and they execute +flourishes like those we are accustomed to hear in +farm-yards, but hardly so good; in short the whole +forms a Dutch concert, and this applies even to compositions +with which they are familiar.</p> + +<p>The question is, whether all this could be radically +reformed by introducing other people into the +orchestra, by teaching the musicians time, and by +instructing them in first principles. I think in that +case the people would no doubt take pleasure in it; +so long, however, as this is not done, no improvement +can be hoped for, and every one seems so indifferent +on the subject, that there is not the +slightest prospect of such a thing. I heard a solo +on the flute, where the flute was more than a quarter +of a tone too high; it set my teeth on edge, but no +one remarked it, and when at the end a shake +came, they applauded mechanically. If it were +even a shade better with regard to singing! The +great singers have left the country. Lablache, +David, Lalande, Pisaroni, etc., sing in Paris, and +the minor ones who remain, copy their inspired +moments, which they caricature in the most insupportable +manner.</p> + +<p>We in Germany may perhaps wish to accomplish +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_99"> 99</a></span> +something false or impossible, but it is, and always +will be, quite <em>dissimilar</em>; and just as a <em>cicisbeo</em> +will for ever be odious and repulsive to my feelings, +so is it also with Italian music. I may be too +obtuse to comprehend either; but I shall never feel +otherwise; and recently, at the Philharmonic, after +the music of Pacini and Bellini, when the Cavaliere +Ricci begged me to accompany him in "Non più +andrai," the very first notes were so utterly different +and so infinitely remote from all the previous music, +that the matter was clear to me then, and never will +it be equalized, so long as there is such a blue sky, +and such a charming winter as the present. In the +same way the Swiss can paint no beautiful scenery, +precisely because they have it the whole day before +their eyes. "Les Allemands traitent la musique +comme une affaire d'état," says Spontini, and I +accept the axiom. I lately heard some musicians +here talking of their composers, and I listened in +silence. One quoted ——, but the others interrupted +him, saying he could not be considered an +Italian, for the German school still clung to him, +and he had never been able to get rid of it; consequently +he had never been at home in Italy: we +Germans say precisely the reverse of him, and it +must be not a little trying to find yourself so <em>entre +deux</em>, and without any fatherland. So far as I am +concerned I stick to my own colours, which are +quite honourable enough for me.</p> + +<p>Last night a theatre that Torlonia has undertaken +and organized, was opened with a new opera of Pacini's. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_100"> 100</a></span> +The crowd was great, and every box filled +with handsome, well-dressed people; young Torlonia +appeared in a stage-box with his mother, the old +Duchess, and they were immensely applauded. The +audience called out <em>Bravo, Torlonia, grazie, grazie!</em> +Opposite to him was Jerome, with his suite, and +covered with orders: in the next box Countess +Samoilow, etc. Over the orchestra is a picture of +Time pointing to the dial of the clock, which revolves +slowly, and is enough to make any one melancholy. +Pacini then appeared at the piano, and was +kindly welcomed. He had prepared no overture, so +the opera began with a chorus, accompanied by +strokes on an anvil tuned in the proper key. The +Corsair came forward, sang his <em>aria</em>, and was applauded, +on which the Corsair above, and the +Maestro below, bowed (this pirate is a contralto, +and sung by Mademoiselle Mariani); a variety of +airs followed, and the piece became very tiresome. +This seemed to be also the opinion of the public, for +when Pacini's grand <em>finale</em> began, the whole pit +stood up, talking to each other as loud as they +could, laughing and turning their backs on the stage. +Madame Samoilow fainted in her box, and was carried +out. Pacini glided away from the piano, and +at the end of the act, the curtain fell in the midst +of a great tumult. Then came the grand ballet of +<em>Barbe Bleue</em>, followed by the last act of the opera. +As the audience were now in a mood for it, they +hissed the whole ballet from the very beginning, and +accompanied the second act also with hooting and +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_101"> 101</a></span> +laughter. At the close Torlonia was called for, but +he would not appear.</p> + +<p>This is the matter-of-fact narrative of a first performance +at the opening of a theatre in Rome. I had +anticipated much amusement, so I came away considerably +out of humour; still, if the music had made +<em>furore</em>, I should have been very indignant, for it is +so wretched that it really is beneath all criticism. +But that they should turn their backs on their favourite +Pacini, whom they wished to crown in the +Capitol, parody his melodies, and sing them in a +ludicrous style, this does, I confess, provoke me not +a little, and is likewise a proof of how low such a +musician stands in the public opinion. Another +time they will carry him home on their shoulders; +but this is no compensation. They would not act +thus in France with regard to Boieldieu; independent +of all love of art, a sense of propriety would +prevent their doing so: but enough of this subject, +for it is too vexatious.</p> + +<p>Why should Italy still insist on being the land of +Art, while it is in reality the Land of Nature, thus +delighting every heart! I have already described +to you my walks to the Monte Pincio. I continue +them daily. I went lately with the Vollards to +Ponte Nomentano, a solitary dilapidated bridge in +the spacious green Campagna. Many ruins from +the days of ancient Rome, and many watch-towers +from the Middle Ages, are scattered over this long +succession of meadows; chains of hills rise towards +the horizon, now partially covered with snow, and +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_102"> 102</a></span> +fantastically varied in form and colour by the +shadows of the clouds. And there is also the enchanting, +vapoury vision of the Alban hills, which +change their hues like a chameleon, as you gaze at +them,—where you can see for miles little white +chapels glittering on the dark ground of the hills, +as far as the Passionist Convent on the summit, +and whence you can trace the road winding through +thickets, and the hills sloping downwards to the +Lake of Albano, while a hermitage peeps through +the trees. The distance is equal to that from Berlin +to Potsdam, say I as a good Berliner; but that +it is a lovely vision, I say in earnest. No lack of +music <em>there</em>; it echoes and vibrates <em>there</em> on every +side; not in the vapid, tasteless theatres. So we +rambled about, chasing each other in the Campagna, +and jumping over the fences, and when the sun went +down we drove home, feeling so weary, and yet so self-satisfied +and pleased, as if we had done great things; +and so we have, if we <em>rightly appreciated</em> it all.</p> + +<p>I have now applied myself again to drawing, and +have latterly put in some tints, as I should be glad +to be able to recall some of these bright hues, and +practice quickens the perceptions. I must now +tell you, dear mother, of a great, very great pleasure +I recently enjoyed, because you will rejoice with +me. Two days ago I was for the first time in a +small circle with Horace Vernet, and played there. +He had previously told me that his most favourite +and esteemed music was "Don Juan," especially +the Duet and the Commendatore at the end; and as +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_103"> 103</a></span> +I highly approved of such sentiments on his part, +the result was, that while playing a prelude to +Weber's <em>Concert-Stück</em>, I imperceptibly glided further +into extemporizing—thought I would please +him by taking these themes, and so I worked them +up fancifully for some time. This caused him a +degree of delight far beyond what I ever knew my +music produce in any one, and we became at once +more intimate. Afterwards he suddenly came up +to me, and whispered that we must make an exchange, +for that he also was an improvisatore; and +when I was naturally curious to know what he +meant, he said it was his secret. He is however +like a little child, and could not conceal it for more +than a quarter of an hour, when he came in again, +and taking me into the next room, he asked me if I +had any time to spare, as he had stretched and +prepared a canvas, and proposed painting my portrait +on it, which I was to keep in memory of this +day, or roll it up and send it to you, or take it with +me, just as I chose. He said he should have no +easy task with his improvisation, but at all events +he would attempt it. I was only too glad to give +my consent, and cannot tell you how much I was +enchanted with the delight and enthusiasm he evidently +felt in my playing.</p> + +<p>It was in every respect a happy evening; as I +ascended the hill with him, all was so still and +peaceful, and only one window lit up in the large +dark villa.<a name="FNanchor_12" id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> Fragments of music floated on the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_104"> 104</a></span> +air, and its echoes in the dark night, mingled with +the murmuring of fountains, were sweeter than I can +describe. Two young students were drilling in the +anteroom, while the third acted the part of lieutenant, +and commanded in good form. In another +room my friend Montfort, who gained the prize for +music in the Conservatorium, was seated at a piano, +and others were standing round, singing a chorus; +but it went very badly. They urged another young +man to join them, and when he said that he did not +know how to sing, his friend rejoined, "Qu'est-ce +que ça fait? c'est toujours une voix de plus!" I +helped them as I best could, and we were well +amused. Afterwards we danced, and I wish you +could have seen Louisa Vernet dancing the Saltarella +with her father. When at length she was +forced to stop for a few moments, and snatched up +a tambourine, playing with the utmost spirit, +and relieving us, who could really scarcely any +longer move our hands, I wished I had been a +painter, for what a superb picture she would have +made! Her mother is the kindest creature in the +world, and the grandfather, Charles Vernet (who +paints such splendid horses), danced a quadrille the +same evening with so much ease, making so many +<em>entrechats</em>, and varying his steps so gracefully, that +it is a sad pity he should actually be seventy-two +years of age. Every day he rides, and tires out two +horses, paints and draws a little, and spends the +evening in society.</p> + +<p>In my next letter I must tell you of my acquaintance +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_105"> 105</a></span> +with Robert, who has just finished an admirable +picture, "The Harvest," and also describe my +recent visits with Bunsen to the studios of Cornelius, +Koch, Overbeck, etc. My time is fully occupied, +for there is plenty to do and to see; unluckily I cannot +make time elastic, however much I may strive to +extend it. I have as yet said nothing of Raphael's +portrait as a child, and Titian's "Nymphs Bathing," +who in a piquant enough fashion are designated +"Sacred and Profane Love," one being in full gala +costume, while the other is devoid of all drapery,<a name="FNanchor_13" id="FNanchor_13" href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> +or of my exquisite "Madonna di Foligno," or of +Francesco Francia, the most guileless and devout +painter in the world; or of poor Guido Reni, whom +the bearded painters of the present day treat with +such contempt, and yet he painted a certain Aurora, +and many other splendid objects besides; but what +avails description? It is well for me that I can +revel in the sight of them. When we meet, I may +perhaps be able to give you a better idea of them.</p> + +<p class="right">Your <span class="smcap">Felix</span>.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + + +<h3><a name="Rome_February_1st_1831" id="Rome_February_1st_1831"></a>Rome, February 1st, 1831.</h3> + +<p>I intended not to write to you till my birthday, but +possibly two days hence I may not be in a writing +mood, and must drive all fancies away by hard work. +It does not seem probable that the Papal military +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_106"> 106</a></span> +band will surprise me in the morning,<a name="FNanchor_14" id="FNanchor_14" href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> and as I +have told all my acquaintances that I was born on +the 25th, I think the day will glide quietly by; I +prefer this to a trivial half-and-half celebration. I +will place your portrait before me in the morning, +and feel happy in looking at it and in thinking of +you. I shall then play over my military overture, +and select my favourite dish for dinner, from the +<em>carte</em> at the <em>Lepre</em>. It is not unprofitable to be +obliged to do all this for one's self, both on birthdays +and other days. I feel isolated enough, and am +rather partial to the other extreme. At night the +Torlonias are so obliging as to give a ball to eight +hundred persons; on Wednesday, the day before, +and on Friday, the day after my birthday, I am invited +to the house of some English friends. During +the previous week, I have been busily engaged in +sight-seeing, and revisited many well-known objects;—thus +I was in the Vatican, the Farnesina, Corsini, +the Villa Lante, Borghese, etc. Two days ago I +saw the frescoes for the first time in Bartholdy's +house;<a name="FNanchor_15" id="FNanchor_15" href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> inasmuch as the English ladies who reside +there, and who have transformed the painted saloon +into a sleeping apartment, with a four-post bed, +would never hitherto permit me to enter it. So this +was my first visit to my uncle's house, where at last +I saw his pictures, and the view of the city. It was +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_107"> 107</a></span> +a noble, regal idea to have these frescoes; and the +execution of such a sublime thought, in spite of every +kind of impediment and annoyance, simply in order +that the design should be carried out, seems to me +very charming.</p> + +<p>But to turn to an entirely different subject. In +many circles here, it is the fashion to consider piety +and dulness synonymous, and yet they are very different; +our German clergyman here is not behindhand +in this respect. There are men in Rome with +an amount of fanaticism credible in the sixteenth +century, but quite monstrous in the present day; +they all wish to make converts, abusing each other +in a Christian manner, and each ridiculing the belief +of his neighbour, till it is quite too sad to hear them. +As if to have simplicity, and to be simple, were the +same thing! Unfortunately I must here retract my +favourite axiom, that <em>goodwill</em> can effect all things, +<em>ability</em> must accompany it; but I am soaring too +high, and my father will lecture me. I wish this +letter were better, but we have snow on the ground; +the roofs in the Piazza di Spagna are quite white, +and heavy clouds of snow are gathering; nothing +can be more odious to us Southerners, and we are +freezing. The Monte Pincio is a mass of ice. Your +Northern Lights have their revenge on us. Who +can write or think with any degree of warmth? I +was so pleased at the idea of being a whole winter +without snow, but now I must give up that notion. +The Italians say that spring breezes will come in a +few days; then gay life, and gay letters, will be resumed. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_108"> 108</a></span> +Farewell! may you enjoy every good, and +think of me.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Rome, February 8th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>The Pope is elected: the Pope is crowned. He +performed mass in St. Peter's on Sunday, and conferred +his benediction; in the evening the dome +was illuminated, succeeded by the Girandola; the +Carnival began on Saturday, and pursues its headlong +course in the most motley forms. The city +has been illuminated each evening. Last night +there was a ball at the French Embassy; to-day the +Spanish Ambassador gives a grand entertainment. +Next door to me they sell <em>confetti</em>, and how they do +shout! And now I might as well stop, for why +attempt to describe what is, in fact, indescribable? +You ought to make Hensel tell you of these splendid +<em>fêtes</em>, which in pomp, brilliancy, and animation, +surpass all the imagination can conceive, for my +sober pen is not equal to the task. What a different +aspect everything has assumed during the last +eight days, for now the mildest and most genial sun +is shining, and we remain in the balcony enjoying +the air till after sunset. Oh, that I could enclose +for you, in this letter, only one quarter of an hour of +all this pleasure, or tell you how life actually flies in +Rome, every minute bringing its own memorable delights! +It is not difficult to give <em>fêtes</em> here; if the +simple architectural outlines are lighted up, the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_109"> 109</a></span> +dome of St. Peter's blazes forth in the dark purple +atmosphere, calmly shining. If there are fireworks, +they brighten the gloomy solid walls of the Castle +of St. Angelo, and fall into the Tiber; when they +commence their fantastic <em>fêtes</em> in February, the most +lustrous sun shines down on them and beautifies +them. It is a wondrous land.</p> + +<p>But I must not forget to tell you that I spent my +birthday very differently from what I expected. I +must however be brief, for an hour hence I go to +join the Carnival in the Corso. My birthday had +three celebrations—the eve, the birthday itself, and +the day after. On the 2nd of February, Santini +was sitting in my room in the morning, and in +answer to my impatient questions about the Conclave, +he replied with a diplomatic air, that there +was little chance of a Pope being elected before +Easter. Herr Brisbane also called, and told me +that after leaving Berlin, he had been in Constantinople, +and Smyrna, etc., and inquired after all his +acquaintances in Berlin, when suddenly the report +of a cannon was heard, and then another, and the +people rushed across the Piazza di Spagna, shouting +with all their might. We three started off, Heaven +knows how, and ran breathlessly to the Quirinal, +where the man was just retreating, who had shouted +through a broken window—"Annuncio vobis gaudium +magnum; habemus Papam R. E. dominum +Capellari, qui nomen assumsit Gregorius XVI." +All the Cardinals now crowded into the balcony, to +breathe fresh air, and laughed, and talked together +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_110"> 110</a></span> +It was the first time they had been in the open air +for fifty days, and yet they looked so gay, their red +caps shining brightly in the sun; the whole Piazza +was filled with people, who clambered on the obelisk, +and on the horses of Phidias, and the statues projected +far above in the air. Carriage after carriage +drove up, amid jostling and shouting. Then the +new Pope appeared, and before him was borne the +golden cross, and he blessed the crowd for the first +time, while the people at the same moment prayed, +and cried "Hurrah!" All the bells in Rome were +ringing, and there was firing of cannons, and flourishes +of trumpets, and military music. This was +the <em>eve</em> of my birthday.</p> + +<p>Next morning I followed the crowd down the long +street to the Piazza of St. Peter's, which looked +finer than I had ever seen it, lit up brightly by the +sun, and swarming with carriages; the Cardinals in +their red coaches, driving in state to the sacristy, +with servants in embroidered liveries, and people +innumerable, of every nation, rank, and condition; +and high above them the dome and the church +seeming to float in blue vapour, for there was considerable +mist in the morning air. And I thought +that Capellari would probably appropriate all this +to himself when he saw it; but I knew better. It +was all to celebrate my birthday; and the election of +the Pope, and the homage, a mere spectacle in honour +of me; but it was well and naturally performed; and +so long as I live. I shall never forget it.</p> + +<p>The Church of St. Peter's was crowded to the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_111"> 111</a></span> +door. The Pope was borne in on his throne, and +fans of peacocks' feathers carried before him, and +then set down on the High Altar, when the Papal +singers intoned, "<em>Tu es sacerdos magnus</em>." I only +heard two or three chords, but it required no more; +the sound was enough. Then one Cardinal succeeded +another, kissing the Pope's foot and his +hands, when he in turn embraced them. After surveying +all this for a time, standing closely pressed +by a crowd, and unable to move, to look suddenly +aloft to the dome, as far as the lantern, inspires a +singular sensation. I was with Diodati, among a +throng of Capuchins; these saintly men are far from +being devotional on an occasion of this kind, and by +no means cleanly. But I must hasten on; the Carnival +is beginning, and I must not lose any portion +of it.</p> + +<p>At night, (in honour of my birthday,) barrels of +pitch were burned in all the streets, and the Propaganda +illuminated. The people thought this was +owing to its being the former residence of the Pope, +but <em>I</em> knew it was because I lived exactly opposite, +and I had only to lean out of my window to enjoy it +all. Then came Torlonia's ball, and in every corner +were seen glimpses of red caps above, and red stockings +below. The following day they worked very +hard at scaffoldings, platforms, and stages for the +Carnival; edicts were posted up about horse-racing, +and specimens of masks were displayed at the +windows, and (in celebration of the day following my +birthday) the illumination of the dome, and the Girandola +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_112"> 112</a></span> +were fixed for Sunday. On Saturday all the +world went to the Capitol, to witness the form of the +Jews' supplications to be suffered to remain in the +Sacred City for another year; a request which is +refused at the foot of the hill, but after repeated +entreaties, granted on the summit, and the Ghetto is +assigned to them. It was a tiresome affair; we +waited two hours, and after all, understood the +oration of the Jews as little as the answer of the +Christians. I came down again in very bad humour, +and thought that the Carnival had commenced +rather unpropitiously. So I arrived in the Corso +and was driving along, thinking no evil, when I was +suddenly assailed by a shower of sugar comfits. I +looked up; they had been flung by some young ladies +whom I had seen occasionally at balls, but scarcely +knew, and when in my embarrassment I took off my +hat to bow to them, the pelting began in right earnest. +Their carriage drove on, and in the next was Miss +T——, a delicate young Englishwoman. I tried to +bow to her, but she pelted me too, so I became quite +desperate, and clutching the <em>confetti</em>, I flung them +back bravely; there were swarms of my acquaintances, +and my blue coat was soon as white as that of +a miller. The B——s were standing on a balcony, +flinging <em>confetti</em> like hail at my head; and thus pelting +and pelted, amid a thousand jests and jeers, and +the most extravagant masks, the day ended with +races.</p> + +<p>The following day there was no carnival, but as a +compensation, the Pope conferred his benediction +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_113"> 113</a></span> +from the Loggia, in the Piazza of St. Peter's; he +was consecrated as Bishop in the Church, and at +night the dome was lighted up. The sudden, nay +<em>instantaneous</em> change the illumination of the building +effects, you must ask Hensel to paint or to describe, +whichever he prefers. Nothing can be more startling +than the sudden and surprising vision, of so many +hundred human beings, previously invisible, now revealed +as it were in the air, working and moving +about—and the glorious Girandola,—but who can +conceive it! Now the gaieties recommence. Farewell! +in my next letter I mean to continue my description. +Yesterday, at the Carnival, flowers and +<em>bonbons</em> were indiscriminately thrown, and a mask +gave me a bouquet, which I have dried, and mean to +bring home for you. All idea of occupation is out +of the question at present; I have only composed +one little song; but when Lent comes, I intend to be +more industrious. Who can at such a moment think +either of writing or music? I must go out, so farewell, +dear ones.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Rome, February 22nd, 1831.</h3> + +<p>A thousand thanks for your letter of the 8th, +which I received yesterday, on my return from +Tivoli. I cannot tell you, dear Fanny, how much I +am delighted with your plan about the Sunday music. +This idea of yours is most brilliant, and I do entreat +of you, for Heaven's sake, not to let it die away +again; on the contrary, pray give your travelling +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_114"> 114</a></span> +brother a commission to write something new for +you. He will gladly do so, for he is quite charmed +with you, and with your project. You must let me +know what voices you have, and also take counsel +with your subjects as to what they like best (for +the people, O Fanny, have rights). I think it +would be a good plan to place before them something +easy, interesting and pleasing,—for instance, +the Litany of Sebastian Bach. But to speak seriously, +I recommend the "Shepherd of Israel," or +the "Dixit Dominus," of Hændel.</p> + +<p>Do you mean to play something during the intervals +to these people? I think this would not be +unprofitable to either party, for they must have time +to take breath, and you must study the piano, and +thus it would become a vocal and instrumental concert. +I wish so much that I could be one of the +audience, and compliment you afterwards. Be discreet +and indulgent, and avoid fatiguing either +yourself or the voices of your singers. Do not be +irritable when things go badly; say very little on the +subject to any one. Lastly, above all, endeavour to +prevent the choir feeling any tedium, for this is the +principal point. One of my pieces certainly owes +its birth to this Sunday music. When you wrote to +me about it lately, I reflected whether there was anything +I could send you, thus reviving an old favourite +scheme of mine, which has however now assumed +such vast proportions, that I cannot let you have +any part of it by E——, but you shall have it at +some future time.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_115"> 115</a></span> +Listen and wonder! Since I left Vienna I have +partly composed Goethe's first "Walpurgis Night," +but have not yet had courage to write it down. The +composition has now assumed a form, and become +a grand Cantata, with full orchestra, and may turn +out well. At the opening there are songs of spring, +etc., and plenty of others of the same kind. Afterwards, +when the watchmen with their "Gabeln, und +Zacken, und Eulen," make a great noise, the fairy +frolics begin, and you know that I have a particular +foible for them; the sacrificial Druids then appear, +with their trombones in C major, when the watchmen +come in again in alarm, and here I mean to +introduce a light mysterious tripping chorus; and +lastly to conclude with a grand sacrificial hymn. +Do you not think that this might develop into a +new style of Cantata? I have an instrumental introduction, +as a matter of course, and the effect of +the whole is very spirited. I hope it will soon be +finished. I have once more begun to compose with +fresh vigour, and the Italian symphony makes rapid +progress; it will be the most sportive piece I have +yet composed, especially the last movement. I +have not yet decided on the <em>adagio</em>, and think I +shall reserve it for Naples. "Verleih uns Frieden" +is completed, and "Wir glauben all" will also be +ready in a few days. The Scotch symphony alone +is not yet quite to my liking; if any brilliant idea +occurs to me, I will seize it at once, quickly write it +down, and finish it at last.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_116"> 116</a></span></p> + +<h3>Rome, March 1st, 1831.</h3> + +<p>While I write this date, I shrink from the thought +of how time flies. Before this month is at an end +the Holy Week begins, and when it is over, my stay +in Rome will be drawing to a close. I now try to +reflect whether I have made the best use of my time, +and on every side I perceive a deficiency. If I +could only compass one of my two symphonies! I +must and will reserve the Italian one till I have seen +Naples, which must play a part in it, but the other +also seems to elude my grasp; the more I try to +seize it and the nearer the end of this delightful +quiet Roman period approaches, the more am I perplexed, +and the less do I seem to succeed. I feel as +if it will be long indeed before I can write again as +freely as here, and so I am eager to finish what I +have to do, but I make no progress. The "Walpurgis +Night" alone gets on quickly, and I hope it +will soon be accomplished. Besides, I cannot resist +every day sketching, that I may carry away with me +reminiscences of my favourite haunts. There is still +much that I wish to see, so I perfectly well know +that this month will suddenly come to an end, and +much remain undone; and indeed it is quite too +beautiful here.</p> + +<p>Rome is considerably changed, and neither so gay +nor so cheerful as formerly.<a name="FNanchor_16" id="FNanchor_16" href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> Almost all my acquaintances +are gone; the promenades and streets +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_117"> 117</a></span> +are deserted, the galleries closed, and it is impossible +to gain admittance into them. All news from +without almost entirely fails us, (for we saw the +details about Bologna first in the 'Allgemeine +Zeitung' yesterday;) people seldom or never congregate +together; in fact, everything has subsided +into entire rest; but then the weather is lovely, and +no one can deprive us of this warm, balmy atmosphere. +Those who are most to be pitied in the +present state of affairs are the Vernet ladies, who +are unpleasantly situated here. The hatred of the +entire Roman populace is, strangely enough, directed +against the French Pensionaries, believing that +their influence alone could easily effect a revolution. +Threatening anonymous letters have been repeatedly +sent to Vernet; indeed he one day found an armed +Transteverin stationed in front of the windows of +his studio, who however took to flight when Vernet +fetched his gun: and as the ladies are now entirely +alone, and isolated in the villa, their family are +naturally very uneasy. Still all continues quiet and +serene within the city, and I am quite convinced it +will remain so.</p> + +<p>The German painters are really more contemptible +than I can tell you. Not only have they cut +off their whiskers and moustaches, and their long +hair and beards, openly declaring that as soon as all +danger is at an end they will let them grow again, +but these tall stalwart fellows go home as soon as it +is dark, lock themselves in, and discuss their fears +together. They call Horace Vernet a braggart, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118"> 118</a></span> +and yet he is very different from these miserable +creatures, whose conduct makes me cordially despise +them. Latterly I occasionally visited some of the +modern studios. Thorwaldsen has just finished a +statue in clay of Lord Byron. He is seated amidst +ancient ruins, his feet resting on the capital of a +column, while he is gazing into the distance, +evidently about to write something on the tablets +he holds in his hand. He is represented not in +Roman costume, but in a simple modern dress, and +I think it looks well, and does not destroy the +general effect. The statue has the natural air and +easy pose so remarkable in all this sculptor's works, +and yet the poet looks sufficiently gloomy and +elegiac, though not affected. I must some day write +you a whole letter about the 'Triumph of Alexander,' +for never did any piece of sculpture make +such an impression on me; I go there every week, +and stand gazing at that alone, and enter Babylon +along with the Conqueror. I lately called on +A——; he has brought with him some admirable +pencil sketches from Naples and Sicily, so I should +be glad to take some hints from him, but I fear that +he is a considerable exaggerator, and does not +sketch faithfully. His landscape of the Colosseum, +at H. B., is a beautiful romance; for I cannot say +that in the original I ever perceived woods of large +cypresses and orange-trees, or fountains or thickets +in the centre, extending to the ruins. Moreover, +<em>his</em> moustaches have also disappeared.</p> + +<p>I have something amusing to tell you in conclusion. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_119"> 119</a></span> +I wish, O my Fanny, that as a contrast to +your Sunday harmony you had heard the music we +perpetrated last Sunday evening. We wished to +sing the Psalms of Marcello, being Lent, and the +best dilettanti consequently assembled. A Papal +singer was in the middle, a <em>maestro</em> at the piano, +and we sang. When a soprano solo came, all the +ladies pressed forward, each insisting on singing it, +so it was executed as a <em>tutti</em>. The tenor by my side +never alighted on the right note, and rambled about +in the most insecure regions. When I chimed in as +second tenor, he dropped into my part, and when I +tried to assist him, he seemed to think that was my +original part, and kept steadily to his own. The +Papal singer at one instant sang in the soprano +falsetto, and presently took the first bass; soon +after he quaked out the <em>alt</em>, and when all that was +of no avail, he smiled sorrowfully across at me, and +we nodded mysteriously to each other. The <em>maestro</em>, +in striving to set us all right, repeatedly lost his +own place, being a bar behind, or one in advance, +and thus we sang with the most complete anarchy, +just as we thought fit. Suddenly came a very +solemn solo passage for the bass, which <em>all</em> attacked +valiantly, but at the second bar broke into a chorus +of loud laughter, in which we unanimously joined, +so the affair ended in high good-humour. The +people who had come as audience talked at the +pitch of their voices, and then went out and dispersed. +Eynard came in and listened to our music +for a time, then made a horrid grimace, and was +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_120"> 120</a></span> +seen no more. Farewell! Health and happiness +attend you all!</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Rome, March 15th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>The letters of introduction that R—— sent me, +have been of no use to me here. L—— likewise, +to whom I was presented by Bunsen, has not taken +the smallest notice of me, and tries to look the +other way when we meet. I rather suspect the +man is an aristocrat. Albani admitted me, so I +had the honour of conversing for half an hour with +a Cardinal. After reading the introductory letter, +he asked me if I was a pensioner of the King of +Hanover. "No," said I. He supposed that I must +have seen St. Peter's? "Yes," said I. As I knew +Meyerbeer, he assured me that he could not endure +his music; it was too scientific for him; indeed, +everything he wrote was so learned, and so devoid +of melody, that you at once saw that he was a +German, and the Germans, <em>mon ami</em>, have not the +most remote conception of what melody is! "No," +said I. "In <em>my</em> scores," continued he, "all sing; not +only the voices sing, but also the first violin sings, +and the second violin also, and the oboe sings, and +so it goes on, even to the horns, and last of all the +double-bass sings too." I was naturally desirous, in +all humility, to see some of his music; he was +modest, however, and would show me nothing, but +he said that wishing to make my stay in Rome a +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_121"> 121</a></span> +agreeable as possible, he hoped I would pay a visit +to his villa, and I might take as many of my +friends with me as I chose. It was near such and +such a place. I thanked him very much, and subsequently +boasted considerably of this gracious +permission; but presently discovered that this villa +is open to the public, and any one can go there +who chooses. Since that time I have heard no +more of him, and as this and some other instances +have inspired me with respect, mingled with aversion, +towards the highest Roman circles, I resolved +not to deliver the letter to Gabrielli, and was satisfied +by having the whole Bonaparte family pointed +out to me on the promenade, where I met them +daily.</p> + +<p>I think Mizkiewicz very tiresome. He possesses +that kind of indifference which bores both himself +and others, though the ladies persist in designating +it melancholy and lassitude; but this makes it no +better in my eyes. If he looks at St. Peter's, he deplores +the times of the hierarchy; if the sky is blue +and beautiful, he wishes it were dull and gloomy; if +it is gloomy, he is freezing; if he sees the Colosseum, +he wishes he had lived at that period. I wonder +what sort of a figure he would have made in the days +of Titus!</p> + +<p>You inquire about Horace Vernet, and this is, +indeed, a pleasant theme. I believe I may say that +I have learned something from him, and every one +may do the same. He produces with incredible +facility and freshness. When a form meets his eye +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_122"> 122</a></span> +which touches his feelings, he instantly adopts it, +and while others are deliberating whether it can be +called beautiful, and praising or censuring, he has +long completed his work, entirely deranging our +æsthetical standard. Though this facility cannot be +acquired, still its principle is admirable, and the +serenity which springs from it, and the energy it +calls forth in working, nothing else can replace.</p> + +<p>Among the alleys of evergreen trees, where at this +season of blossoms the fragrance is so charming, in +the midst of the shrubberies and gardens of the Villa +Medicis, stands a small house, in which as you approach +you invariably hear a tumult,—shouting and +wrangling, or a piece executed on a trumpet, or the +barking of dogs; this is Vernet's <em>atelier</em>. The most +picturesque disorder everywhere prevails; guns, a +hunting-horn, a monkey, palettes, a couple of dead +hares or rabbits; the walls covered with pictures, +finished and unfinished. "The Investiture of the +National Cockade" (an eccentric picture which does +not please me), portraits recently begun of Thorwaldsen, +Eynard, Latour-Maubourg, some horses, a +sketch of Judith, and studies for it; the portrait of +the Pope, a couple of Moorish heads, bagpipers, +Papal soldiers, my unworthy self, Cain and Abel, +and last of all a drawing of the interior of the place +itself, all hang up in his studio.</p> + +<p>Lately his hands were quite full, owing to the +number of portraits bespoken from him; but in the +street, he saw one of the Campagna peasants, who +are armed and mounted by Government, and ride +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_123"> 123</a></span> +about Rome. The singular costume caught the +artist's eye, and next day he began a picture representing +a similar peasant, sitting on his horse in bad +weather in the Campagna, and seizing his gun in +order to take aim at some one with it; in the distance +are visible a small troop of soldiers, and the desolate +plain. The minute details of the weapon, where the +peasant peeps through the soldier's uniform, the +wretched horse and its shabby trappings, the discomfort +prevalent throughout, and the Italian +phlegm in the bearded fellow, make a charming little +picture; and no one can help envying him, who sees +the real delight with which his brush traverses the +stretched canvas, at one moment putting in a little +rivulet, and a couple of soldiers, and a button on the +saddle; then lining the soldier's great-coat with +green. Numbers of people come to look on: during +my first sitting twenty persons, at least, arrived one +after the other. Countess E—— asked him to allow +her to be present when he was at work; but when he +darted on it as a hungry man does on food, her +amazement was great. The whole family are, as I +told you, good people, and when old Charles talks +about his father Joseph, you must feel respect for +them, and I maintain that they are noble. Good-bye, +for it is late, and I must send my letter to the Post.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_124"> 124</a></span></p> + +<h3>Rome, March 29th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>In the midst of the Holy Week. To-morrow for +the first time I am to hear the Miserere, and while +you last Sunday performed "The Passion," the Cardinals +and all the priesthood here received twisted +palms and olive-branches. The Stabat Mater of +Palestrina was sung, and there was a grand procession. +My work has got on badly during the last +few days. Spring is in all her bloom; a genial blue +sky without, such as we at most only dream of, +and a journey to Naples in my every thought; so +even a quiet time to write is not to be found. C——, +who is usually a cool fellow, has written me such a +glowing letter from Naples! The most prosaic men +become poetical when they speak of it. The finest +season of the year in Italy, is from the 15th of April +to the 15th of May. Who can wonder that I find it +impossible to return to my misty Scotch mood? I +have therefore laid aside the Scotch symphony for +the present, but hope to write out the "Walpurgis +Night" here. I shall manage to do so if I work hard +to-day and to-morrow, and if we have bad weather, +for really a fine day is too great a temptation. As +soon as an impediment occurs, I hope to find some +resource in the open air, so I go out and think of +anything and everything but my composition, and do +nothing but lounge about, and when the church bells +begin to ring, it is the Ave Maria already. All I +want now is a short overture. If I can accomplish +this, the thing is complete, and I can write it out in a +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_125"> 125</a></span> +couple of days. Then I have done with music, and +leaving all music-paper here, I shall go off to Naples, +where, please God, I mean to do nothing.</p> + +<p>Two French friends of mine have tempted me to +<em>flâner</em> with them a good deal of late. When they +are together, it is either a perpetual tragedy, or +comedy,—as you will. Y—— distorts everything, +without a spark of talent, always groping in the +dark, but esteeming himself the creator of a new +world; writing moreover the most frightful things, +and yet dreaming and thinking of nothing but +Beethoven, Schiller, and Goethe; a victim at the +same time to the most boundless vanity, and looking +down condescendingly on Mozart and Haydn, so +that all his enthusiasm seems to me very doubtful. +Z—— has been toiling for three months at a little +rondo on a Portuguese theme; he arranges neatly +and brilliantly, and according to rule, and he now +intends to set about composing six waltzes, and is +in a state of perfect ecstasy if I will only play him +over a number of Vienna waltzes. He has a high +esteem for Beethoven, but also for Rossini and for +Bellini, and no doubt for Auber,—in short, for +everybody. Then my turn comes to be praised, +who would be only too glad to murder Y——, till +he chances to eulogize Gluck, when I can quite +agree with him. I like nevertheless to walk about +with these two, for they are the only musicians +here, and both very pleasant, amiable persons. All +this forms an amusing contrast.</p> + +<p>You say, dear mother, that Y—— must have a +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_126"> 126</a></span> +fixed aim in his art; but this is far from being my +opinion. I believe he wishes to be married, and is +in fact worse than the other, because he is by far +the most affected of the two. I really cannot stand +his obtrusive enthusiasm, and the gloomy despondency +he assumes before ladies,—this stereotyped +genius in black and white; and if he were not a +Frenchman, (and it is always pleasant to associate +with them, as they have invariably something interesting +to say,) it would be beyond endurance. A +week hence, I shall probably write you my last +letter from Rome, and then you shall hear of me +from Naples. It is still quite uncertain whether I +go to Sicily or not; I almost think not, as in any +event I must have recourse to a steamboat, and it +is not yet settled that one is to go.</p> + +<p class="right">In haste, yours, <span class="smcap">Felix</span>.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> +<h3>Rome, April 4th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>The Holy Week is over, and my passport to +Naples prepared. My room begins to look empty, +and my winter in Rome is now among my reminiscences +of the past. I intend to leave this in a few +days, and my next letter (D. V.) shall be from +Naples. Interesting and amusing as the winter in +Rome has been, it has closed with a truly memorable +week; for what I have seen and heard far +surpassed my expectations, and being the conclusion, +I will endeavour in this, my last letter from +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_127"> 127</a></span> +Rome, to give you a full description of it all. People +have often both zealously praised and censured +the ceremonies of the Holy Week, and have yet +omitted, as is often the case, the chief point, namely +its perfection as a complete whole. My father may +probably remember the description of Mdlle. de +R——, who after all only did what most people do, +who write or talk about music and art, when in a +hoarse and prosaic voice she attempted at dinner to +give us some idea of the fine clear Papal choir. +Many others have given the mere music, and been +dissatisfied, because external adjuncts are required +to produce the full effect. Those persons may be +in the right; still so long as these indispensable +externals are there, and especially in such entire +perfection, so long will it impress others; and just +as I feel convinced that place, time, order, the vast +crowd of human beings awaiting in the most profound +silence the moment for the music to begin, +contribute largely to the effect, so do I contemn the +idea of deliberately separating what ought in fact to +be indivisible, and this for the purpose of exhibiting +a certain portion, which may thus be depreciated. +That man must be despicable indeed, on whom +the devotion and reverence of a vast assemblage +did not make a corresponding impression of devotion +and reverence, even if they were worshipping +the Golden Calf; let him alone destroy this, who +can replace it by something better.</p> + +<p>Whether one person repeats it from another, +whether it comes up to its great reputation, or is +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_128"> 128</a></span> +merely the effect of the imagination, is quite the +same thing. It suffices that we have a perfect +totality, which has exercised the most powerful influence +for centuries past, and still exercises it, and +therefore I reverence it, as I do every species of real +perfection. I leave it to theologians to pronounce +on its religious influence, for the various opinions on +that point are of no great value. There is more to +be considered than the mere ceremonies: for me it +is sufficient, as I already said, that in any sphere the +object should be fully carried out, so far as ability +will permit, with fidelity and conscientiousness, to +call forth my respect and sympathy. Thus you must +not expect from me a formal critique on the singing, +as to whether they intoned correctly or incorrectly, +in tune or out of tune, or whether the compositions +are fine. I would rather strive to show you, that as +a whole the affair cannot fail to make a solemn impression, +and that everything contributes to this +result, and as last week I enjoyed music, forms, and +ceremonies, without severing them, revelling in the +perfect whole, so I do not intend to separate them +in this letter. The technical part, to which I naturally +paid particular attention, I mean to detail more +minutely to Zelter.</p> + +<p>The first ceremony was on Palm Sunday, when +the concourse of people was so great, that I could +not make my way through the crowd to my usual +place on what is called the Prelates' Bench, but was +forced to remain among the Guard of Honour, +where indeed I had a very good view of the solemnities, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_129"> 129</a></span> +but could not follow the singing properly, as +they pronounced the words very indistinctly, and on +that day I had no book. The result was that on this +first day, the various antiphons, Gospels, and Psalms, +and the mode of chanting, instead of reading, which +is employed here in its primitive form, made the +most confused and singular impression on me. I +had no clear conception what rule they followed +with regard to the various cadences. I took considerable +pains gradually to discover their method, +and succeeded so well, that at the end of the Holy +Week I could have sung with them. I thus also +escaped the extreme weariness, so universally complained +of during the endless Psalms before the +Miserere; for I quickly detected any variety in +the monotony, and when perfectly assured of any particular +cadence, I instantly wrote it down; so I made +out by degrees (which indeed I deserved) the melodies +of eight Psalms. I also noted down the antiphons, +etc., and was thus incessantly occupied and interested.</p> + +<p>The first Sunday, however, as I already told you, +I could not make it all out satisfactorily: I only +knew that the choir sang "Hosanna in excelsis," and +intoned various hymns, while twisted palms were +offered to the Pope, which he distributed among the +Cardinals. These palms are long branches decorated +with buttons, crosses, and crowns, all entirely made +of dried palm-leaves, which makes them look like +gold. The Cardinals, who are seated in the Chapel +in the form of a quadrangle, with the abbati at their +feet, now advance each in turn to receive their +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_130"> 130</a></span> +palms, with which they return to their places; then +come the bishops, monks, abbati, and all the other +orders of the priesthood; the Papal singers, the +knights, and others, who receive olive-branches +entwined with palm-leaves. This makes a long procession, +during which the choir continues to sing +unremittingly. The abbati hold the long palms of +their cardinals like the lances of sentinels, slanting +them on the ground before them, and at this moment +there is a brilliancy of colour in the chapel that I +never before saw at any ceremony. There were +the Cardinals in their gold embroidered robes and +red caps, and the violet abbati in front of them, +with golden palms in their hands, and further in +advance, the gaudy servants of the Pope, the Greek +priests, the patriarchs in the most gorgeous attire; +the Capuchins with long white beards, and all the +other religious Orders; then again the Swiss, in +their popinjay uniforms, all carrying green olive-branches, +while singing is going on the whole time; +though certainly it is scarcely possible to distinguish +what is being sung, yet the mere sound is sufficient +to delight the ear.</p> + +<p>The Pope's throne is then carried in, on which he +is elevated in all processions, and where I saw Pius +VIII. enthroned on the day of my arrival (<em>vide</em> the +'Heliodorus' of Raphael, where he is portrayed). +The Cardinals, two and two, with their palms, head +the procession, and the folding doors of the chapel +being thrown open, it slowly defiles through them. +The singing, which has hitherto incessantly prevailed, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_131"> 131</a></span> +like an element, becomes fainter and fainter, for the +singers also walk in the procession, and at length are +only indistinctly heard, the sound dying away in the +distance. Then a choir in the chapel bursts forth +with a query, to which the distant one breathes a +faint response; and so it goes on for a time, till the +procession again draws near, and the choirs reunite. +Let them sing how or what they please, this cannot +fail to produce a fine effect; and though it is quite +true that nothing can be more monotonous, and even +devoid of form, than the hymns <em>all' unisono</em>, being +without any proper connection, and sung <em>fortissimo</em> +throughout, still I appeal to the impression that as +a <em>whole</em> it must make on every one. After the procession +returns, the Gospel is chanted in the most +singular tone, and is succeeded by the Mass. I must +not omit here to make mention of my favourite moment; +I mean the Credo. The priest takes his place +for the first time in the centre, before the altar, and +after a short pause, intones in his hoarse old voice +the Credo of Sebastian Bach. When he has finished, +the priests stand up, the Cardinals leave +their seats, and advance into the middle of the +chapel, where they form a circle, all repeating the +continuation in a loud voice, "Patrem omnipotentem," +etc. The choir then chimes in, singing the +same words. When I for the first time heard my +well-known</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/149.jpg" width="300" height="64" alt="music149a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/149a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_132"> 132</a></span> +and all the grave monks round me began to recite +in loud and eager tones, I felt quite excited, for this +is the moment I still like the best of all. After +the ceremony, Santini made me a present of his +olive-branch, which I carried in my hand the whole +day when I was walking about, for the weather was +beautiful. The Stabat Mater which succeeds the +Credo, made much less effect; they sang it incorrectly +and out of tune, and likewise curtailed it +considerably. The 'Sing Akademie' executes it infinitely +better. There is nothing on Monday or +Tuesday; but on Wednesday, at half-past four, the +nocturns begin.</p> + +<p>The Psalms are sung in alternate verses by two +choirs, though invariably by one class of voices, +basses or tenors. For an hour and a half, therefore, +nothing but the most monotonous music is heard; +the Psalms are only once interrupted by the Lamentations, +and this is the first moment when, after a +long time, a complete chord is given. This chord +is very softly intoned, and the whole piece sung +<em>pianissimo</em>, while the Psalms are shouted out as much +as possible, and always upon one note, and the words +uttered with the utmost rapidity, a cadence occurring +at the end of each verse, which defines the +different characteristics of the various melodies. +It is not therefore surprising that the mere soft +sound (in G major) of the first Lamentation, should +produce so touching an effect. Once more the +single tone recommences; a wax light is extinguished +at the end of each Psalm, so that in the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_133"> 133</a></span> +course of an hour and a half the fifteen lights round +the altar are all out; six large-sized candles still +burn in the vestibule. The whole strength of the +choir, with alti and soprani, etc., intone <em>fortissimo</em> +and <em>unisono</em>, a new melody, the "Canticum Zachariæ," +in D minor, singing it slowly and solemnly in +the deepening gloom; the last remaining lights are +then extinguished. The Pope leaves his throne, +and falls on his knees before the altar, while all +around do the same, repeating a paternoster <em>sub +silentio</em>; that is, a pause ensues, during which you +know that each Catholic present says the Lord's +Prayer, and immediately afterwards the Miserere +begins <em>pianissimo</em> thus:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/151.jpg" width="300" height="147" alt="music151a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/151a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>This is to me the most sublime moment of the +whole. You can easily picture to yourself what +follows, but not this commencement. The continuation, +which is the Miserere of Allegri, is a simple +sequence of chords, grounded either on tradition, +or what appears to me much more probable, merely +embellishments, introduced by some clever <em>maestro</em> +for the fine voices at his disposal, and especially for +a very high soprano. These <em>embellimenti</em> always +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134"> 134</a></span> +recur on the same chords, and as they are cleverly +constructed, and beautifully adapted for the voice, +it is invariably pleasing to hear them repeated. I +could not discover anything unearthly or mysterious +in the music; indeed, I am perfectly contented that +its beauty should be earthly and comprehensible. +I refer you, dearest Fanny, to my letter to Zelter. +On the first day they sang Baini's Miserere.</p> + +<p>On Thursday, at nine o'clock in the morning, the +solemnities recommenced, and lasted till one o'clock. +There was High Mass, and afterwards a procession. +The Pope conferred his benediction from the Loggia +of the Quirinal, and washed the feet of thirteen +priests, who are supposed to represent the pilgrims, +and were seated in a row, wearing white gowns and +white caps, and who afterwards dine. The crowd +of English ladies was extraordinary, and the whole +affair repugnant to my feelings. The Psalms began +again in the afternoon, and lasted on this occasion +till half past seven. Some portions of the Miserere +were taken from Baini, but the greater part were +Allegri's. It was almost dark in the chapel when +the Miserere commenced. I clambered up a tall +ladder standing there by chance, and so I had the +whole chapel crowded with people, and the kneeling +Pope and his Cardinals, and the music, beneath me. +It had a splendid effect. On Friday forenoon the +chapel was stripped of every decoration, and the +Pope and Cardinals in mourning. The history of +the Passion, according to St. John, the music by +Vittoria, was sung; then the Improperia of Palestrina, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_135"> 135</a></span> +during which the Pope and all the others, +taking off their shoes, advance to the cross and +adore it. In the evening Baini's Miserere was +given, which they sang infinitely the best.</p> + +<p>Early on Saturday, in the baptistery of the Lateran, +Heathens, Jews, and Mahomedans were baptized, all +represented by a little child, who screeched the whole +time, and subsequently some young priests received +consecration for the first time. On Sunday the Pope +himself performed High Mass in the Quirinal, and +subsequently pronounced his benediction on the +people, and then all was over. It is now Saturday, +the 9th of April, and to-morrow at an early hour I +get into a carriage and set off for Naples, where a +new style of beauty awaits me. You will perceive by +the end of this letter that I write in haste. This is +my last day, and a great deal yet to be done. I do +not therefore finish my letter to Zelter, but will send +it from Naples. I wish my description to be correct, +and my approaching journey distracts my attention +sadly. Thus I am off to Naples; the weather is clearing +up, and the sun shining, which it has not done for +some days past. My passport is prepared, the carriage +ordered, and I am looking forward to the months +of spring. Adieu!</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Naples, April 13th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>Dear Rebecca,</p> + +<p>This must stand in lieu of a birthday letter: may +it wear a holiday aspect for you! It arrives late in +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_136"> 136</a></span> +the day, but with equally sincere good wishes. Your +birthday itself I passed in a singular but delightful +manner, though I could not write, having neither +pens nor ink; in fact, I was in the very middle of the +Pontine Marshes. May the ensuing year bring you +every happiness, and may we meet somewhere! If +you were thinking of me on that day, our thoughts +must have met either on the Brenner or at Inspruck; +for I was constantly thinking of you. Even without +looking at the date of this letter, you will at once +perceive by its tone that I am in Naples. I have not +yet been able to compass one serious quiet reflection, +there is everywhere such jovial life here, inviting you +to do nothing, and to think of nothing, and even the +example of so many thousand people has an irresistible +influence. I do not indeed intend that this should +continue, but I see plainly that it must go on for the +first few days. I stand for hours on my balcony, +gazing at Vesuvius and the Bay.</p> + +<p>But I must now endeavour to resume my old descriptive +style, or my materials will accumulate so +much that I shall become confused, and I fear you +may not be able to follow me properly. So much +that is novel crowds on me, that a journal would be +requisite to detail to you my life and my state of excitement. +So I begin by acknowledging that I deeply +regretted leaving Rome. My life there was so quiet, +and yet so full of interest, having made many kind +and friendly acquaintances, with whom I had become +so domesticated, that the last days of my stay, with +all their discomforts and perpetual running about, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_137"> 137</a></span> +seemed doubly odious. The last evening I went to +Vernet's to thank him for my portrait, which is now +finished, and to take leave of him. We had some +music, talked politics, and played chess, and then I +went down the Monte Pincio to my own house, +packed up my things, and the next morning drove +off with my travelling companions. As I gazed out +of the cabriolet at the scenery, I could dream to my +heart's desire. When we arrived at our night quarters, +we all went out walking. The two days glided +past more like a pleasure excursion than a journey.</p> + +<p>The road from Rome to Naples is indeed the +most luxuriant that I know, and the whole mode of +travelling most agreeable. You fly through the +plain; for a very slight gratuity the postilions gallop +their horses like mad, which is very advisable in +the Marshes. If you wish to contemplate the +scenery, you have only to abstain from offering any +gratuity, and you are soon driven slowly enough. +The road from Albano, by Ariccia and Genzano, as +far as Velletri, runs between hills, and is shaded by +trees of every kind; uphill and downhill, through +avenues of elms, past monasteries and shrines. On +one side is the Campagna, with its heather, and its +bright hues; beyond comes the sea, glittering charmingly +in the sunshine, and above, the clearest sky; +for since Sunday morning the weather has been +glorious.</p> + +<p>Well! we drove into Velletri, our night quarters, +where a great Church festival was going on. Handsome +women with primitive faces were pacing the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_138"> 138</a></span> +alleys in groups, and men were standing together +wrapped in cloaks, in the street. The church was +decorated with garlands of green leaves, and as we +drove past it we heard the sounds of a double +bass and some violins; fireworks were prepared in +the square; the sun went down clear and serene, +and the Pontine Marshes, with their thousand colours, +and the rocks rearing their heads one by one +against the horizon, indicated the course we were +to pursue on the following day. After supper I +resolved to go out again for a short time, and discovered +a kind of illumination; the streets were +swarming with people, and when I at last came to +the spot where the church stood, I saw, on turning +the corner, that the whole street had burning +torches on each side, and in the middle the people +were walking up and down, crowding together, and +pleased to see each other so distinctly at night. I +cannot tell you what a pretty sight it was. The +concourse was greatest before the church; I pressed +forward into it along with the rest. The little +building was filled with people kneeling, adoring +the Host, which was exposed; no one spoke a word, +nor was there any music. This stillness, the lighted +church, and the many kneeling women with white +handkerchiefs on their heads, and white gowns, had +a striking effect. When I left the church a shrewd, +handsome Italian boy explained the whole festival, +assuring me that it would have been far finer had +it not been for the recent disturbances, for they had +been the cause of depriving the people of the horseraces, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_139"> 139</a></span> +and barrels of pitch, etc., and on this account +it was unlucky that the Austrians had not come +sooner.</p> + +<p>The following morning, at six o'clock, we pursued +our way through the Pontine Marshes. It is a species +of Bergstrasse. You drive through a straight +avenue of trees along a plain. On one side of the +avenue is a continued chain of hills, on the other +the Marshes. They are, however, covered with +innumerable flowers, which smell very sweet; but +in the long-run this becomes very stupefying, and I +distinctly felt the oppression of the atmosphere, in +spite of the fine weather. A canal runs along +beside the <em>chaussée</em>, constructed by the orders of +Pius VI. to form a conduit for the marshes, where +we saw a number of buffaloes wallowing, their heads +emerging out of the water, and apparently enjoying +themselves. The straight, level road has a singular +appearance. You see the chain of hills at the end +of the avenue when you come to the first station, +and again at the second and third, the only difference +being that as you advance so many miles +nearer, the hills loom gradually larger. Terracina, +which is situated exactly at the end of this avenue, +is invisible till you come quite close to it. On +making a sudden turn to the left, round the corner +of a rock, the whole expanse of the sea lies before +you. Citron-gardens, and palms, and a variety of +plants of Southern growth, clothe the declivity in +front of the town; towers appearing above the +thickets, and the harbour projecting into the sea. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_140"> 140</a></span> +To me, the finest object in nature is, and always will +be, the ocean. I love it almost more than the sky. +Nothing in Naples made a more enchanting impression +on my mind than the sea, and I always feel +happy when I see before me the spacious surface of +waters.</p> + +<p>The South, properly speaking, begins at Terracina. +This is another land, and every plant and every +bush reminds you of it. Above all, the two mighty +ridges of hills delighted me, between which the road +runs; they were totally devoid of bushes or trees, +but clothed entirely with masses of golden wall-flowers, +so that they had a bright yellow hue, and +the fragrance was almost too strong. There is a +great want of grass and large trees. The old robbers' +nests of Fondi and Itri looked very piratical +and gloomy. The houses are built against the walls +of the rocks, and there are likewise some large towers +of the date of the Middle Ages. Many sentinels and +posts were stationed on the tops of the hills; but we +made out our journey without any adventure. We +remained all night in Mola di Gaeta; there we saw +the renowned balcony whence you look over orange +and citron groves to the blue sea, with Vesuvius and +the islands in the far distance. This was on the 11th +of April. As I had been celebrating your birthday +all day long in my own thoughts, I could not in the +evening resist informing my companions that it was +your birthday; so your health was drunk again and +again. An old Englishman, who was of the party, +wished me a "happy return to my sister." I emptied +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_141"> 141</a></span> +the glass to your health, and thought of you. Remain +unchanged till we meet again.</p> + +<p>With such thoughts in my head, I went in the +evening to the citron-garden, close to the sea-shore, +and listened to the waves rolling in from afar, and +breaking on the shore, and sometimes gently rippling +and splashing. It was indeed a heavenly night. +Among a thousand other thoughts, Grillparzer's +poem recurred to my memory, which it is almost impossible +to set to music; for which reason, I suppose, +Fanny has composed a charming melody on it; but I +do not jest when I say that I sang the song over repeatedly +to myself, for I was standing on the very +spot he describes. The sea had subsided, and was +now calm, and at rest; this was the first song. The +second followed next day, for the sea was like a +meadow or pure ether as you gazed at it, and pretty +women nodded their heads, and so did olives and +cypresses; but they were all equally brown, so I remained +in a poetic mood.</p> + +<p>What is it that shines through the leaves, and +glitters like gold? Only cartridges and sabres; for +the King had been reviewing some troops in Sant' +Agata, and soldiers defiled on both sides of the +path, who had the more merit in my eyes because +they resembled the Prussians, and for a long time +past I have seen only Papal soldiers. Some carried +dark-lanterns on their muskets, as they had been +marching all night. The whole effect was bold and +gay. We now came to a short rocky pass, from +which you descend into the valley of Campana, the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_142"> 142</a></span> +most enchanting spot I have ever seen; it is like a +boundless garden, covered entirely with plants and +vegetation as far as the eye can reach. On one side +are the blue outlines of the sea, on the other an +undulating range of hills above which snowy peaks +project; and at a great distance Vesuvius and the +islands, bathed in blue vapours, start up on the level +surface; large avenues of trees intersect the vast +space, and a verdant growth forces its way from +under every stone. Everywhere you see grotesque +aloes and cactuses, and the fragrance and vegetation +are quite unparalleled.</p> + +<p>The pleasure we enjoy in England through men, +we here enjoy through nature; and as there is no +corner there, however small, of which some one has +not taken possession in order to cultivate and adorn +it, so here there is no spot which Nature has not +appropriated, bringing forth on it flowers and herbs, +and all that is beautiful. The Campana valley is +fruitfulness itself. On the whole of the vast immeasurable +surface bounded in the far distance by +blue hills and a blue sea, nothing but green meets +the eye. At last you come to Capua. I cannot +blame Hannibal for remaining too long there. +From Capua to Naples the road runs uninterruptedly +between trees, with hanging vines, till at the end of +the avenue, Vesuvius, and the sea, with Capri, and +a mass of houses, lie before you. I am living here +in St. Lucia as if in heaven; for in the first place I +see before me Vesuvius, and the hills as far as Castellamare, +and the bay, and in the second place, I +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_143"> 143</a></span> +am living up three stories high. Unfortunately that +traitor Vesuvius does not smoke at all, and looks +precisely like any other fine mountain; but at night +the people float in lighted boats on the Bay, to +catch sword-fish. This has a pretty enough effect. +Farewell!</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> +<h3>Naples, April 10th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>We are so accustomed to find that everything +turns out quite differently from what we expected +and calculated, that you will feel no surprise when +instead of a letter like a journal, you receive a very +short one, merely saying that I am quite well, and +little else.</p> + +<p>As for the scenery, I cannot describe it, and if +you have no conception of what it really is, after all +that has been said and written on the subject, there +is little chance of my enlightening you; for what +makes it so indescribably beautiful, is precisely that +it is not of a nature to admit of description. Any +other detail I could send you would be about my +life here; but it is so simple, that a very few words +suffice to depict it. I do not wish to make any acquaintances, +for I am resolved not to remain here +longer than a few weeks. I intend to make various +excursions to see the country, and all I desire here, +is to become thoroughly intimate with nature: so I +go to bed at nine o'clock, and rise at five, to refresh +myself by gazing from my balcony at Vesuvius, the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_144"> 144</a></span> +sea, and the coast of Sorrento, in the bright morning +light. I have also taken very long solitary +rambles, discovering beautiful views for myself, and +I have infinite satisfaction in finding that what I +consider the loveliest spot of all is almost entirely +unknown to the Neapolitans. During these excursions +I sought out some house on a height, to which +I scrambled up; or else merely followed any path I +fancied, allowing myself to be surprised by night +and moonshine, and making acquaintance with vine-dressers, +in order to learn my way back; arriving +at last at home about nine o'clock, very tired, +through the Villa Reale. The view from this villa, +of the sea and the enchanting Capri by moonlight, +is truly charming, and so is the almost overpowering +fragrance of the acacias in full bloom, and the fruit-trees +scattered all over with rose-coloured blossoms, +looking like trees with pink foliage,—all this is +indeed quite indescribable.</p> + +<p>As I live chiefly with and in nature, I can write +less than usual; perhaps we may talk it over when +we meet, and the sketches in our sitting-room at +home will furnish materials and reminiscences for +conversation. One thing I must not however omit, +dear Fanny, which is, that I quite approve of your +taste when I recall what you told me years ago that +your favorite spot was the island of Nisida. Perhaps +you may have forgotten this, but I have not. +It looks as if it were made expressly for pleasure-grounds. +On emerging from the thicket of Bagnuolo, +Nisida has quite a startling effect, rising out of the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_145"> 145</a></span> +sea, so near, so large and so green; while the other +islands, Procida, Ischia, and Capri, stand afar off, +and indistinct in their blue tints. After the murder +of Cæsar, Brutus took refuge in this island, and +Cicero visited him there; the sea lay between them +then, and the rocks, covered with vegetation, bent +over the sea, just as they do now. <em>These</em> are the +antiquities that interest me, and are infinitely more +suggestive than crumbling mason-work. There is a +degree of innate superstition and dishonesty among +the people here that is totally inconceivable, and +this has often even marred my pleasure in nature; +for the Swiss, of whom my father complained so +much, are positively guileless, primitive beings, +compared with the Neapolitans. My landlord invariably +gives me too little change for a piastre, +and when I tell him of it, he coolly fetches the remainder. +The only acquaintances I intend to make +here are musical ones, that I may leave nothing +incomplete,—for instance Fodor, who does not sing +in public, Donizetti, Coccia, etc.</p> + +<p>I now conclude by a few words to you, dear +Father. You write to me that you disapprove of +my going to Sicily; I have consequently given up +this plan, though I cannot deny that I do so with +great reluctance, for it was really more than a mere +<em>whim</em> on my part. There is no danger to be apprehended, +and, as if on purpose to vex me, a steamer +leaves this city on the 4th of May, which is to make +the entire tour; and a good many Germans, and probably +the minister here, are to take advantage of it. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_146"> 146</a></span> +I should have liked to see a mountain vomiting forth +flames, as Vesuvius has been hitherto so unkind as +not even to smoke. Your instructions however +have till now so entirely coincided with my own inclinations, +that I cannot allow the first opportunity +I have of showing my obedience to your wishes +(even when opposed to my own), to pass without +complying with them, so I have effaced Sicily from +my travelling route. Perhaps we may meet sooner +in consequence of this; and now farewell, for I am +going to walk to Capo di Monte.</p> + +<p class="smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Naples, April 27th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>It is now nearly a fortnight since I have heard +from you. I do earnestly hope that nothing unpleasant +has occurred, and every day I expect the +post will bring me tidings of you all. My letters +from Naples are of little value, for I am too deeply +absorbed here to be able easily to extricate myself, +and to write descriptive letters. Besides, when we +had bad weather lately, I took advantage of it to +resume my labours, and zealously applied myself to +my "Walpurgis Night," which daily increases in +interest for me, so I employ every spare moment in +completing it. I hope to finish it in a few days, and +I think it will turn out well. If I continue in my +present mood, I shall finish my Italian symphony +also in Italy, in which case I shall have a famous +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_147"> 147</a></span> +store to bring home with me, the fruits of this winter. +Moreover every day I have something new to +see. I generally make my excursions with the +Schadows.</p> + +<p>Yesterday we went to Pompeii. It looks as if it +had been burnt down, or like a recently deserted +city. As both of these always seem to me deeply +affecting, the impression made on me was the most +melancholy that I have yet experienced in Italy. +It is as if the inhabitants had just gone out, and yet +almost every object tells of another religion and +another life; in short, of seventeen hundred years +ago; and the French and English ladies scramble +about as gaily as possible, and sketch it all. It is +the old tragedy of the Past and the Present, a +problem I never can solve. Lively Naples is indeed +a pleasant contrast; but it is painful to see the +crowd of wretched beggars who waylay you in every +street and path, swarming round the carriage the +instant it stops. The old white-haired men particularly +distress me, and such a mass of misery exceeds +all belief. If you are walking on the sea-shore, and +gazing at the islands, and then chance to look round +at the land, you find yourself the centre of a group +of cripples, who make a trade of their infirmities; +or you discover (which lately happened to me) that +you are surrounded by thirty or forty children, all +whining out their favourite phrase, "Muoio di fame," +and rattling their jaws to show that they have nothing +to eat. All this forms a most repulsive contrast; +and yet to me it is still more repugnant that you +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_148"> 148</a></span> +must entirely renounce the great pleasure of seeing +happy faces; for even when you have given the +richest gratuities to guards, waiters, or workpeople, +in short, to whom you will, the invariable rejoinder +is, "Nienti di più?" in which case you may be very +sure that you have given too much. If it is the +proper sum, they give it back with the greatest +apparent indignation, and then return and beg to +have it again. These are trifles, certainly, but they +show the lamentable condition of the people. I +have even gone so far as to feel provoked with the +perpetual smiling aspect of nature, when in the +most retired spots troops of beggars everywhere +assailed me, some even persisting in following me a +long way. It is only when I am quietly seated in +my own room, gazing down on the Bay, and on +Vesuvius, that being totally alone with them I feel +really cheerful and happy.</p> + +<p>To-day we are to ascend the hill to visit the +Camaldoli Monastery, and to-morrow, if the weather +permits, we proceed to Procida and Ischia. I go +this evening to Madame Fodor's with Donizetti, +Benedict, etc. She is very kind and amiable towards +me, and her singing has given me great pleasure, +for she has wonderful facility, and executes her +<em>fiorituri</em> with so much taste, that it is easy to see +how many things Sonntag acquired from her, especially +the <em>mezza voce</em>, which Fodor, whose voice +is no longer full and fresh, most prudently and +judiciously introduces into many passages. As she +is not singing at the theatre, I am most fortunate in +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_149"> 149</a></span> +having made her acquaintance personally. The +theatre is now closed for some weeks, because the +blood of St. Januarius is shortly to liquefy. What +I heard at the opera previously did not repay the +trouble of going. The orchestra, like that in Rome, +was worse than in any part of Germany, and not +even one tolerable female singer. Tamburini alone, +with his vigorous bass voice, imparted some life to +the whole. Those who wish to hear Italian operas, +must now-a-days go to Paris or London. Heaven +grant that this may not eventually be the case with +German music also!</p> + +<p>I must however return to my "Witches," so you +must forgive my not writing any more to-day. This +whole letter seems to hover in uncertainty, or rather +I do so in my "Walpurgis Night," whether I am to +introduce the big drum or not. "Zacken, Gabeln, +und wilde Klapperstöcke," seem to force me to the +big drum, but moderation dissuades me. I certainly +am the only person who ever composed for the scene +on the Brocken without employing a piccolo-flute, +but I can't help regretting the big drum, and before +I can receive Fanny's advice, the "Walpurgis +Night" will be finished and packed up. I shall +then set off again on my travels, and Heaven knows +what I may have in my head by that time. I feel +convinced that Fanny would say <em>yes</em>; still, I feel +very doubtful; at all events a vast noise is indispensable.</p> + +<p>Oh, Rebecca! can you not procure the words of +some songs, and send them to me? I feel quite in +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_150"> 150</a></span> +the humour for them, and you must require something +new to sing. If you can furnish me with some +pretty verses, old or new, gay or grave, I will compose +something in a style to suit your voice. I am +at your service for any compact of this kind. Pray +do send me wherewithal to work at, during my journey, +in the inns. Now, farewell to you all! May +you be as happy as I ever wish you to be, and think +of me!</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> +<h3>Naples, May 17th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>On Saturday, the 14th of May, at two o'clock, I +told my driver to turn the carriage. We were opposite +the Temple of Ceres at Pæstum, the most +southern point of my journey. The carriage consequently +turned towards the north, and from that +moment, as I journey onwards, I am every hour +drawing nearer to you. It is about a year now since +I travelled with my father to Dessau and Leipzig; +the time in fact exactly corresponds, for it was +about the half-year. I have made good use of the +past year. I have acquired considerable experience +and many new impressions. Both in Rome and here +I have been very busy, but no change has occurred +in my outward circumstances; and till the beginning +of the new year, in fact so long as I am in +Italy, it will probably be the same. This period +has not however been less valuable to me than some +when outwardly, and in the opinion of others, I have +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_151"> 151</a></span> +appeared to make greater progress; for there must +always be a close connection between the two. If +I have gathered experience, it cannot fail to influence +me outwardly, and I shall allow no opportunity +to escape to show that it has done so. Possibly +some such may occur before the end of my journey, +so I may for the present continue to enjoy nature, +and the blue sky, during the months that still remain +for me in Italy, without thinking of anything +else; for <em>there</em> alone lies true art, now in Italy,—<em>there</em> +and in her monuments; and there it will ever +remain; and there we shall ever find it, for our instruction +and delight, so long as Vesuvius stands, +and so long as the balmy air, and the sea, and the +trees do not pass away.</p> + +<p>In spite of all this, I am enough of a musician to +own that I do heartily long once more to hear an +orchestra or a full chorus where there is at least +some sound, for here there is nothing of the sort. +This is <em>our</em> peculiar province, and to be so long +deprived of such an element, leaves a sad void. +The orchestra and chorus here are like those in our +second-rate provincial towns, only more harsh and +incorrect. The first violinist, all through the opera, +beats the four quarters of each bar on a tin candle-stick, +which is often more distinctly heard than the +voices (it sounds somewhat like obbligati castanets, +only louder); and yet in spite of this the voices are +never together. Every little instrumental solo is +adorned with old-fashioned flourishes, and a bad +tone pervades the whole performance, which is +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_152"> 152</a></span> +totally devoid of genius, fire, or spirit. The singers +are the worst Italian ones I ever heard anywhere +(except, indeed, in Italy), and those who wish to +have a true idea of Italian singing must go to Paris +or to London. Even the Dresden company, whom I +heard last year in Leipzig, are superior to any here. +This is but natural, for in the boundless misery that +prevails in Naples, where can the bases of a theatre +be found, which of course requires considerable +capital? The days when every Italian was a born +musician, if indeed they ever existed, are long gone +by. They treat music like any other fashionable +article, with total indifference; in fact, they scarcely +pay it the homage of outward respect, so it is not +to be wondered at that every single person of talent +should, as regularly as they appear, transfer themselves +to foreign countries, where they are better +appreciated, their position better defined, and where +they find opportunities of hearing and learning +something profitable and inspiriting.</p> + +<p>The only really good singer here is Tamburini; +he has, however, long since been heard in Vienna +and Paris, and I believe in London also; so now, +when he begins to discover that his voice is on the +decline, he comes back to Italy. I cannot admit +either that the Italians alone understand the art of +singing; for there is no music, however florid. I +have ever heard executed by Italians, that Sonntag +cannot accomplish, and in even greater perfection. +She certainly, as she acknowledges, learned much +from Fodor; but why should not another German +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_153"> 153</a></span> +in turn learn the same from Sonntag? and Malibran +is a Spaniard. Italy can no longer claim the glorious +appellation of "the land of music;" in truth, +she has already lost it, and possibly she may yet do +so even in the opinion of the world, though this +is problematical. I was lately in company with +some professional musicians, who were speaking of +a new opera by a Neapolitan, Coccia; and one of +them asked if it was clever. "Probably it is," said +another, "for Coccia was long in England, where he +studied, and some of his compositions are much +liked there." This struck me as very remarkable, for +in England they would have spoken exactly in the +same way of Italy; but <em>quo me rapis</em>? I say +nothing to you, dear sisters, in this letter, but in the +course of a few days I mean to send you a little +pamphlet dedicated to you. Do not be alarmed, it +is not poetry; the thing is simply entitled "Journal +of an Excursion to the Islands, in May."</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> +<h3>Naples, May 28th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>My dear Sisters,</p> + +<p>As my journal is become too stupid and uninteresting +to send you, I must at least supply you with +an <em>abrégé</em> of my history. You must know, then, +that on Friday, the 20th of May, we breakfasted <em>in +corpore</em> at Naples, on fruit, etc.; this <em>in corpore</em> includes +the travelling party to Ischia, consisting of +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_154"> 154</a></span> +Ed. Bendemann, T. Hildebrand, Carl Sohn, and +Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. My knapsack was +not very heavy, for it contained scarcely anything +but Goethe's poems, and three shirts; so we packed +ourselves into a hired carriage, and drove through +the grotto of Posilippo to Pozzuoli. The road runs +along by the sea, and nothing can be more lovely; so +it is all the more painful to witness the horrible collection +of cripples, blind men, beggars, and galley +slaves, in short, the poor wretches of every description +who there await you, amid the holiday aspect +of nature.</p> + +<p>I seated myself quietly on the mole and sketched, +while the others plodded and toiled through the +Temple of Serapis, the theatres, the hot springs, +and extinct volcanoes, which I had already seen to +satiety on three different occasions. Then, like youthful +patriarchs or nomads, we collected all our goods +and chattels, cloaks, knapsacks, books and portfolios +on donkeys, and placing ourselves also on them, we +made the tour of the Bay of Baiæ, as far as the +Lake of Avernus, where you are obliged to buy fish +for dinner; we crossed the hill to Cumæ (<em>vide</em> +Goethe's 'Wanderer') and descended on Baiæ, +where we ate and rested. We then looked at more +ruined temples, ancient baths, and other things of +the kind, and thus evening had arrived before we +crossed the bay.</p> + +<p>At half-past nine we arrived at the little town of +Ischia, where we found every corner of the only inn +fully occupied, so we resolved to go on to Don Tommaso's; +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_155"> 155</a></span> +a journey of two hours nominally, but which +we performed in an hour and a quarter. The evening +was deliciously cool, and innumerable glow-worms, +who allowed us to catch them, were scattered on the +vine-branches, and fig-trees, and shrubs. When we +at last arrived, somewhat fatigued, at Don Tommaso's +house, about eleven o'clock, we found all the +people still up, clean rooms, fresh fruits, and a friendly +deacon to wait on us, so we remained comfortably +seated opposite a heap of cherries till midnight. The +next morning the weather was bad, and the rain incessant, +so we could not ascend the Epomeo, and as we +seemed little disposed to converse (we did not get on in +this respect, Heaven knows why!) the affair would +have become rather a bore, if Don Tommaso had not +possessed the prettiest poultry-yard and farm in +Europe. Right in front of the door stands a large +leafy orange-tree covered with ripe fruit, and from +under its branches a stair leads to the dwelling. Each +of the white stone steps is decorated with a large vase +of flowers, these steps leading to a spacious open hall, +whence through an archway you look down on the +whole farm-yard, with its orange-trees, stairs, thatched +roofs, wine casks and pitchers, donkeys and peacocks. +That a foreground may not be wanting, an Indian fig-tree +stands under the walled arch, so luxuriant that +it is fastened to the wall with ropes. The background +is formed by vineyards with summer-houses, +and the adjacent heights of the Monte Epomeo. +Being protected from the rain by the archway, the +party seated themselves there under shelter, and +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_156"> 156</a></span> +sketched the various objects in the farm the best +way they could, the whole livelong day. I was on +no ceremony, and sketched along with them, and I +think I in some degree profited by so doing. At +night we had a terrific storm, and as I was lying in +bed, I remarked that the thunder growled tremendously +on Monte Epomeo, and the echoes continued +to vibrate like those on the Lake of Lucerne, but +even for a greater length of time.</p> + +<p>Next morning, Sunday, the weather was again fine. +We went to Foria, and saw the people going to the +cathedral in their holiday costumes. The women +wore their well-known head-dress of folds of white +muslin placed flat on the head; the men were standing +in the square before the church, in their bright +red caps, gossiping about politics, and we gradually +wound our way through these festal villages up the +hill. It is a huge rugged volcano, full of fissures, +ravines, cavities, and steep precipices. The cavities +being used for wine cellars, they are filled with large +casks. Every declivity is clothed with vines and +fig-trees, or mulberry-trees. Corn grows on the sides +of the steep rocks, and yields more than one crop +every year. The ravines are covered with ivy, and +innumerable bright-coloured flowers and herbs, and +wherever there is a vacant space, young chestnut-trees +shoot up, furnishing the most delightful shade. +The last village, Fontana, lies in the midst of verdure +and vegetation. As we climbed higher, the +sky became overcast and gloomy, and by the time +we reached the most elevated peaks of the rocks, a +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_157"> 157</a></span> +thick fog had come on. The vapours flitted about, +and although the rugged outlines of the rocks, and +the telegraph, and the cross, stood forth strangely in +the clouds, still we could not see even the smallest +portion of the view. Soon afterwards rain commenced, +and as it was impossible to remain, and +wait as you do on the Righi, we were obliged to take +leave of Epomeo without having made his acquaintance. +We ran down in the rain, one rushing after +the other, and I do believe that we were scarcely an +hour in returning.</p> + +<p>Next day we went to Capri. This place has +something Eastern in its aspect, with the glowing +heat reflected from its rocky white walls, its palm-trees, +and the rounded domes of the churches that +look like mosques. The sirocco was burning, and +rendered me quite unfit to enjoy anything; for +really climbing up five hundred and thirty-seven +steps to Anacapri in this frightful heat, and then +coming down again, is toil only fit for a horse. +True, the sea is wondrously lovely, looking down +on it from the summit of the bleak rock, and +through the singular fissures of the jagged peaks, +so strangely formed.</p> + +<p>But above all, I must tell you of the blue grotto, +for it is not known to every one, as you can only +enter it either in very calm weather, or by swimming. +The rocks there project precipitously into the sea, +and are probably as steep under the water as above +it. A huge cavity has been hollowed out by nature, +but in such a manner, that round the whole circumference +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_158"> 158</a></span> +of the grotto, the rocks rest on the sea in +all their breadth, or rather are sunk precipitously +into it, and ascend thence to the vault of the cavern. +The sea fills the whole space of the grotto, +the entrance to which lies under the water, only a +very small portion of the opening projecting above +the water, and through this narrow space you can +only pass in a small boat, in which you must lie +flat. When you are once in, the whole extent of +the huge cave and its vault is revealed, and you can +row about in it with perfect ease, as if under a dome. +The light of the sun also pierces through the opening +into the grotto underneath the sea, but broken +and dimmed by the green sea water, and thence it +is that such magical visions arise. The whole of +the rocks are sky-blue and green in the twilight, +resembling the hue of moonshine, yet every nook, +and every depth, is distinctly visible. The water is +thoroughly lighted up and brilliantly illuminated +by the light of the sun, so that the dark skiff glides +over a bright shining surface. The colour is the +most dazzling blue I ever saw, without shadow or +cloud, like a pane of opal glass; and as the sun +shines down, you can plainly discern all that is +going on under the water, while the whole depths of +the sea with its living creatures are disclosed. You +can see the coral insects and polypuses clinging to +the rocks, and far below, fishes of different species +meeting and swimming past each other. The rocks +become deeper in colour as they go lower into the +water, and are quite black at the end of the grotto, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_159"> 159</a></span> +where they are closely crowded together, and still +further under them, you can see crabs, fishes, and +reptiles in the clear waters. Every stroke too of +the oars echoes strangely under the vault, and as +you row round the wall, new objects come to light. +I do wish you could see it, for the effect is singularly +magical. On turning towards the opening by +which you entered, the daylight seen through it +seems bright orange, and by moving even a few +paces you are entirely isolated under the rock in +the sea, with its own peculiar sunlight: it is as if +you were actually living under the water for a time.</p> + +<p>We then proceeded to Procida, where the women +adopt the Greek dress, but do not look at all +prettier from doing so. Curious faces were peeping +from every window. A couple of Jesuits, in black +gowns and with gloomy countenances, were seated +in a gay arbour of vines, evidently enjoying themselves, +and made a good picture. Then we crossed +the sea to Pozzuoli, and through the grotto of +Posilippo again home.</p> + +<p>I cannot write to Paul about his change of residence, +and his entrance into the great, wide world +of London, because he mentions casually, that he +will probably leave for London in the course of +three weeks, so my letter could not possibly reach +him in Berlin; a week hence I shall take my chance, +and address to my brother in London. That smoky +place is fated to be now and ever my favourite residence; +my heart glows when I even think of it, +and I paint to myself my return there, passing +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_160"> 160</a></span> +through Paris, and finding Paul independent, alone, +and another man, in the dear old haunts; when he +will present me to his new friends, and I will present +him to my old ones, and we shall live and dwell +together: so even at this moment I am all impatience +soon to go there. I see by some newspapers +my friends have sent me, that my name is not forgotten, +and so I hope when I return to London, to +be able to work steadily, which I was previously +unable to do, being forced to go to Italy. If they +make any difficulty in Munich about my opera, or if +I cannot get a <em>libretto</em> that I like, I intend in that +case to compose an opera for London. I know that +I could receive a commission to do so, as soon as I +chose. I am also bringing some new pieces with +me for the Philharmonic, and so I shall have made +good use of my time.</p> + +<p>As my evenings here are at my own disposal, I +read a little French and English. The "Barricades" +and "Les États de Blois" particularly interest me, +as while I read them I realize with horror a period +which we have often heard extolled as a vigorous +epoch, too soon passed away. Though these books +seem to me to have many faults, yet the delineation +of the two opposite leaders is but too correct; both +were weak, irresolute, miserable hypocrites, and I +thank God that the so highly-prized middle ages +are gone never to return. Say nothing of this to +any disciple of Hegel's, but it is so nevertheless; +and the more I read and think on the subject, the +more I feel this to be true. Sterne has become a +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_161"> 161</a></span> +great favourite of mine. I remembered that Goethe +once spoke to me of the 'Sentimental Journey,' +and said that it was impossible for any one better +to paint what a froward and perverse thing is the +human heart. I chanced to meet with the book, +and thought I should like to read it. It pleases me +very much. I think it very subtle, and beautifully +conceived and expressed.</p> + +<p>There are very few German books to be had here. +I am therefore restricted to Goethe's Poems, and +assuredly these are suggestive enough, and always +new. I feel especial interest in those poems which +he evidently composed in or near Naples, such as +Alexis and Dora; for I daily see from my window +how this wonderful work was created. Indeed, +which is often the case with master-pieces, I often +suddenly and involuntarily think, that the very same +ideas might have occurred to myself on a similar +occasion, and as if Goethe had only by some chance +been the first to express them.</p> + +<p>With regard to the poem, "Gott segne dich, junge +Frau," I maintain that I have discovered its locality +and dined with the woman herself; but of course she +is now grown old, and the boy she was then nursing +is become a stalwart vine-dresser. Her house lies +between Pozzuoli and Baiæ, "eines Tempels Trümmern," +and is fully three miles from Cumæ. You +may imagine therefore with what new light and +truth these poems dawn on me, and the different +feeling with which I now regard and study them. +I say nothing of Mignon's song at present, but it is +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_162"> 162</a></span> +singular that Goethe and Thorwaldsen are still +living, that Beethoven only died a few years ago, +and yet H—— declares that German art is as dead +as a rat. <em>Quod non.</em> So much the worse for him +if he really feels thus; but when I reflect for a time +on his conclusions, they appear to me very shallow. +<em>Apropos</em>, Schadow, who returns to Düsseldorf in +the course of a few days, has promised to extract, +if possible, some new songs for me from Immermann, +which rejoices me much. That man is a true poet, +which is proved by his letters, and everything that +he has written. Count Platen is a little, shrivelled, +wheezing old man, with gold spectacles, yet not +more than five-and-thirty! He quite startled me. +The Greeks look very different! He abuses the +Germans terribly, forgetting however that he does +so in German. But farewell for to-day.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> +<h3>Rome, June 6th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>My dear Parents,</p> + +<p>It is indeed high time that I should write to you +a rational, methodical letter, for I fear that none of +those from Naples were worth much. It really +seemed as if the atmosphere there deterred every +one from serious reflection, at least I very seldom +succeeded in collecting my thoughts or ideas; and +now I have been scarcely more than a few hours +here, when I once more resume that Roman tranquillity, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_163"> 163</a></span> +and grave serenity, which I alluded to in my +former letters from this place. I cannot express +how infinitely better I love Rome than Naples. +People allege that Rome is monotonous, of one +uniform hue, melancholy, and solitary. It is certainly +true that Naples is more like a great European +city, more lively and varied, and more cosmopolitan; +but I may say to you confidentially, that I begin +gradually to feel the most decided hatred of all that +is cosmopolitan;—I dislike it, just as I dislike +<em>many-sidedness</em>, which, moreover, I rather think I +do not much believe in. Anything that aspires to +be distinguished, or beautiful, or really great, must +be <em>one-sided</em>; but then this <em>one side</em> must be brought +to a state of the most consummate perfection, and +no man can deny that such is the case at Rome.</p> + +<p>Naples seems to me too small to be called properly +a great city; all the life and bustle are confined +to two large thoroughfares—the Toledo, and the +coast from the harbour to the Chiaja. Naples does +not realize to my mind the idea of a centre for a +great nation, which London offers in such perfection; +chiefly indeed because it is deficient in a +people: for the fishermen and lazzaroni I cannot +designate as a people, they are more like savages, +and their centre is not Naples, but the sea. The +middle classes, by which I mean those who pursue +various trades, and the working citizens who form +the basis of other great towns, are quite subordinate; +indeed, I may almost say that such a class is +not to be found there. It was this that often made +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_164"> 164</a></span> +me feel out of humour during my stay in Naples, +much as I loved and enjoyed the scenery; but as a +dissatisfied feeling constantly recurred, I think I +at last discovered the cause to lie within myself. I +cannot say that I was precisely unwell during the +incessant sirocco, but it was more disagreeable than +an indisposition which passes away in a few days. I +felt languid, disinclined for all that was serious,—in +fact, lazy. I lounged about the streets all day with +a morose face, and would have preferred lying on +the ground, without the trouble of thinking, or wishing, +or doing anything; then it suddenly occurred to +me, that the principal classes in Naples live in reality +precisely in the same manner; that consequently +the source of my depression did not spring from +myself, as I had feared, but from the whole combination +of air, climate, etc. The atmosphere is suitable +for grandees who rise late, never require to go out on +foot, never think (for this is heating), sleep away a +couple of hours on a sofa in the afternoon, then eat +ice, and drive to the theatre at night, where again +they do not find anything to think about, but +simply make and receive visits. On the other +hand, the climate is equally suitable for a fellow in +a shirt, with naked legs and arms, who also has no +occasion to move about—begging for a few <em>grani</em> +when he has literally nothing left to live on—taking +his afternoon's siesta stretched on the ground, or +on the quay, or on the stone pavement (the pedestrians +step over him, or shove him aside if he lies +right in the middle). He fetches his <em>frutti di mare</em> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_165"> 165</a></span> +himself out of the sea, sleeps wherever he may +chance to find himself at night; in short, he employs +every moment in doing exactly what he likes best, +just as an animal does.</p> + +<p>These are the two principal classes of Naples. +By far the largest portion of the population of the +Toledo there, consists of gaily dressed ladies and +gentlemen, or husbands and wives driving together +in handsome equipages, or of those olive <em>sans-culottes</em> +who sometimes carry about fish for sale, brawling in +the most stentorian way, or bearing burdens when +they have no longer any money left. I believe there +are few indeed who have any settled occupation, or +follow up any pursuit with zeal and perseverance, +or who like work for the sake of working. Goethe +says that the misfortune of the North is, that people +there always wish to be doing something, and striving +after some end; and he goes on to say, that an +Italian was right, who advised him not to think so +much, for it would only give him a headache. I +suspect however that he was merely jesting; at all +events, he did not act in this manner himself, but, on +the contrary, like a genuine Northman. If however +he means that the difference of character is produced +by nature, and subservient to her influence, then +there is no doubt that he is quite in the right. I can +perfectly conceive that it must be so, and why wolves +howl; still it is not necessary to howl along with them. +The proverb should be exactly reversed. Those +who, owing to their position, are obliged to work, +and must consequently both think and bestir themselves, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_166"> 166</a></span> +treat the matter as a necessary evil, which +brings them in money, and when they actually have +it, they too live like the great, or the naked, gentlemen. +Thus there is no shop where you are not +cheated. Natives of Naples, who have been customers +for many years, are obliged to bargain, and to +be as much on their guard as foreigners; and one of +my acquaintances, who had dealt at the same shop +for fifteen years, told me that during the whole +of that period there had been invariably the same +battle about a few scudi, and that nothing could +prevent it.</p> + +<p>Thence it is that there is so little industry or competition, +and that Donizetti finishes an opera in ten +days; to be sure, it is sometimes hissed, but that +does not matter, for it is paid for all the same, and +he can then go about amusing himself. If at last +however his reputation becomes endangered, he will +in that case be forced really to work, which he would +find by no means agreeable. This is why he sometimes +writes an opera in three weeks, bestowing +considerable pains on a couple of airs in it, so that +they may please the public, and then he can afford +once more to divert himself, and once more to write +trash. Their painters, in the same way, paint the +most incredibly bad pictures, far inferior even to +their music. Their architects also erect buildings +in the worst taste; among others, an imitation, on a +small scale, of St. Peter's, in the Chinese style. +But what does it matter? the pictures are bright in +colour, the music makes plenty of noise, the buildings +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_167"> 167</a></span> +give plenty of shade, and the Neapolitan grandees +ask no more.</p> + +<p>My physical mood was similar to theirs, everything +inspiring me with a wish to be idle, and to +lounge about, and sleep; yet I was constantly saying +to myself that this was wrong; and striving to +occupy myself, and to work, which I could not +accomplish. Hence arose the querulous tone of +some of the letters I wrote to you, and I could only +escape from such a mood by rambling over the hills, +where nature is so divine, making every man feel +grateful and cheerful. I did not neglect the musicians, +and we had a great deal of music, but I cared +little in reality for their flattering encomiums. +Fodor is hitherto the only genuine artist, male or +female, that I have seen in Italy; elsewhere I should +probably have found a great many faults with her +singing, but I overlooked them all, because when +she sings it is real music, and after such a long privation, +that was most acceptable.</p> + +<p>Now however I am once more in old Rome, where +life is very different. There are processions daily, for +last week was the Corpus Domini; and just as I left +the city during the celebration of the week following +the Holy Week, I now return after the Corpus +Christi to find them engaged in the same way. It +made a singular impression on me to see that the +streets had in the interim assumed such an aspect +of summer: on all sides booths with lemons and +iced water, the people in light dresses, the windows +open, and the <em>jalousies</em> closed. You sit at the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_168"> 168</a></span> +doors of coffee-houses, and eat <em>gelato</em> in quantities; +the Corso swarms with equipages, for people +no longer walk much, and though in reality I miss +no dear friends or relatives, yet I felt quite moved +when I once more saw the Piazza di Spagna, and +the familiar names written up on the corners of the +streets. I shall stay here for about a week, and then +proceed northwards.</p> + +<p>The Infiorata is on Thursday, but it is not yet +quite certain that it will take place, because they +have some apprehensions of a revolution; but I +hope I shall witness this ceremony. I mean to take +advantage of this opportunity to see the hills once +more, and then to set off for the north. Wish me +a good journey, for I am on the eve of departure. +It is a year this very day since I arrived in Munich, +heard 'Fidelio,' and wrote to you. We have not +met since then; but, please God, we shall see each +other again before another year.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Rome, June 16, 1831.</h3> + +<p>Dear Professor,</p> + +<p>It was my intention some time ago to have written +you a description of the music during the Holy +Week, but my journey to Naples intervened, and +during my stay there, I was so constantly occupied +in wandering among the mountains, and in gazing +at the sea, that I had not a moment's leisure to +write; hence arose the delay for which I now beg to +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_169"> 169</a></span> +apologize. Since then I have not heard a single +note worth remembering; in Naples the music is +most inferior. During the last two months, therefore, +I have no musical reminiscences to send you, +save those of the Holy Week, which however made +so indelible an impression on my mind, that they +will be always fresh in my memory. I already described +to my parents the effect of the whole ceremonies, +and they probably sent you the letter.</p> + +<p>It was fortunate that I resolved to listen to the +various Offices with earnest and close attention, and +still more so, that from the very first moment I felt +sensations of reverence and piety. I consider such +a mood indispensable for the reception of new ideas, +and no portion of the general effect escaped me, +although I took care to watch each separate detail.</p> + +<p>The ceremonies commenced on Wednesday, at half +past four o'clock, with the antiphon "Zelus domus +tuæ." A little book containing the Offices for the +Holy Week explains the sense of the various solemnities. +"Each Nocturn contains three Psalms, +signifying that Christ died for all, and also symbolical +of the three laws, the natural, the written, +and the evangelical. The 'Domine labia mea' and +the 'Deus in adjutorium' were not sung on this +occasion, when the death of our Saviour and Master +is deplored, as slain by the hands of wicked +godless men. The fifteen lights represent the +twelve apostles and the three Marys." (In this +manner the book contains much curious information +on this subject, so I mean to bring it with me for you.) +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_170"> 170</a></span> +The Psalms are chanted <em>fortissimo</em> by all the male +voices of two choirs. Each verse is divided into +two parts, like a question and answer, or rather, +classified into A and B; the first chorus sings A, +and the second replies with B. All the words, with +the exception of the last, are sung with extreme rapidity +on one note, but on the last they make a short +"melisma," which is different in the first and second +verse. The whole Psalm, with all its verses, is sung +on this melody, or <em>tono</em> as they call it, and I wrote +down seven of these <em>toni</em>, which were employed +during the three days. You cannot conceive how +tiresome and monotonous the effect is, and how +harshly and mechanically they chant through the +Psalms. The first <em>tonus</em> which they sang was—</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/188a.jpg" width="300" height="62" alt="music188a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/188a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/188b.jpg" width="300" height="62" alt="music188b" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/188b.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>Thus the whole forty-two verses of the Psalm are +sung in precisely the same manner; one half of the +verse ending in G, A, G, the other in G, E, G. +They sing with the accent of a number of men +quarrelling violently, and it sounds as if they were +shouting out furiously one against another. The +closing words of each Psalm are chanted more +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_171"> 171</a></span> +slowly and impressively, a long "triad" being substituted +for the "melisma," sung <em>piano</em>. For instance, +this is the first:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/189.jpg" width="300" height="119" alt="music189a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/189a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>An antiphon, and sometimes more than one, +serves as an introduction to each Psalm. These +are generally sung by two counter-tenor voices, in +<em>canto fermo</em>, in harsh, hard tones; the first half of +each verse in the same style, and the second responded +to by the chorus of male voices that I already +described. I have kept the several antiphons that +I wrote down, that you may compare them with the +book. On the afternoon of Wednesday, the 68th, +69th, and 70th Psalms were sung. (By the bye, +this division of the verses of the Psalms sung in +turns by each chorus, is one of the innovations that +Bunsen has introduced into the Evangelical Church +here; he also ushers in each choral by an antiphon, +composed by Georg, a musician who resides here, +in the style of <em>canti fermi</em>, first sung by a few +voices, succeeded by a choral, such as "Ein' feste +Burg ist unser Gott.") After the 70th Psalm +comes a paternoster <em>sub silentio</em>—that is, all present +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_172"> 172</a></span> +stand up, and a short silent inward prayer ensues, +and a pause.</p> + +<p>Then commences the first Lamentation of Jeremiah, +sung in a low subdued tone, in the key of G +major, a solemn and fine composition of Palestrina's. +The solos are chanted entirely by high tenor voices, +swelling and subsiding alternately, in the most delicate +gradations, sometimes floating almost inaudibly, +and gently blending the various harmonies; +being sung without any bass voices, and immediately +succeeding the previous harsh intonation of the +Psalms, the effect is truly heavenly. It is rather +unfortunate however that those very parts which +ought to be sung with the deepest emotion and +reverence, being evidently those composed with +peculiar fervour, should chance to be merely the +titles of the chapter or verse, <em>aleph</em>, <em>beth</em>, <em>gimel</em>, etc., +and that the beautiful commencement, which sounds +as if it came direct from Heaven, should be precisely +on these words, "Incipit Lamentatio Jeremiæ Prophetæ +Lectio I." This must be not a little repulsive +to every Protestant heart, and if there be any +design to introduce a similar mode of chanting into +our churches, it appears to me that this will always +be a stumbling-block; for any one who sings +"chapter first" cannot possibly feel any pious emotions, +however beautiful the music may be, let him +strive as he will.</p> + +<p>My little book indeed says, "Vedendo profetizzato +il crocifiggimento con gran pietà, si cantano eziandio +molto lamentevolmente <em>aleph</em>, e le altre simili +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_173"> 173</a></span> +parole, che sono le lettere dell' alfabeto Ebreo, +perchè erano in costume di porsi in ogni canzone in +luogo di lamento, come è questa. Ciascuna lettera +ha in se, tutto it sentimento di quel versetto che la +segue, ed è come un argomento di esso;" but this +explanation is not worth much. After this the 71st, +72nd, and 73rd Psalms are sung in the same manner, +with their antiphons. These are apportioned +to the various voices. The soprano begins, "In +monte Oliveti," on which the bass voices chime in +<em>forte</em>, "Oravit ad Patrem: Pater," etc. Then follow +the lessons, from the treatise of Saint Augustine on +the Psalms. The strange mode in which these are +chanted appeared to me very extraordinary when I +heard them for the first time on Palm Sunday, without +knowing what it meant. A solitary voice is +heard reciting on one note, not as in the Psalms, +but very slowly and impressively, making the tone +ring out clearly.</p> + +<p>There are different cadences employed for the +different punctuation of the words, to represent a +comma, interrogation, and full stop. Perhaps you +are already acquainted with these: to me they were +a novelty, and appeared very singular. The first, +for example, was chanted by a powerful bass voice +in G. If a comma occurs, he sings so, on the last +word:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/191.jpg" width="150" height="48" alt="music191a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/191a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_174"> 174</a></span></p> + +<p>an interrogation thus:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/192a.jpg" width="150" height="44" alt="music192a" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/192a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>a full stop:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/192b.jpg" width="150" height="48" alt="music192b" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/192b.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>For example:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/192c.jpg" width="300" height="54" alt="music192c" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/192c.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>I cannot describe to you how strange the falling +cadence from A to C sounds; especially when the +bass is followed by a soprano, who begins on D, and +makes the same falling cadence from E to G; then +an alto does the same in his key; for they sang +three different lessons alternately with the <em>canto +fermo</em>. I send you a specimen of the mode in which +they render the <em>canto fermo</em>, regardless both of the +words and the sense. The phrase "better he had +never been born" was thus sung:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/192d.jpg" width="300" height="126" alt="music192d" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/192d.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_175"> 175</a></span> +quite <em>fortissimo</em> and monotonously. Then came the +Psalms 74, 75, and 76, followed by three lessons, +succeeded by the Miserere, sung in the same style +as the preceding Psalms, in the following <em>tonus</em>:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/193a.jpg" width="300" height="119" alt="music193a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/193a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/193b.jpg" width="300" height="62" alt="music193b" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/193b.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>It will be long before you can improve on this. +Then followed Psalms 8, 62, and 66; "Canticum +Moysi" in its own tone. Psalms 148, 149, and 150 +came next, and then antiphons. During this time +the lights on the altar are all extinguished, save one +which is placed behind the altar. Six wax candles +still continue to burn high above the entrance, the +rest of the space is already dim, and now the whole +chorus <em>unisono</em> intone with the full strength of their +voices the "Canticum Zachariæ," during which the +last remaining lights are extinguished. The mighty +swelling chorus in the gloom, and the solemn vibration +of so many voices, have a wonderfully fine +effect.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_176"> 176</a></span> +The melody (in D minor) is also very beautiful. +At the close all is profound darkness. An antiphon +begins on the sentence, "Now he that betrayed him +gave them a sign," and continues to the words "that +same is he, hold him fast." Then all present fall on +their knees, and one solitary voice softly sings, +"Christus factus est pro nobis obediens usque ad +mortem;" on the second day is added, "mortem +autem crucis;" and on Good Friday, "propter +quod et Deus exaltavit illum, et dedit illi Nomen, +quod est super omne nomen." A pause ensues, +during which each person repeats the Paternoster +to himself. During this silent prayer, a death-like +silence prevails in the whole church; presently the +Miserere commences, with a chord softly breathed +by the voices, and gradually branching off into two +choirs. This beginning, and its first harmonious +vibration, certainly made the deepest impression on +me. For an hour and a half previously, one voice +alone had been heard chanting almost without any +variety; after the pause came an admirably constructed +chord, which has the finest possible effect, +causing every one to feel in their hearts the power +of music; it is this indeed that is so striking. The +best voices are reserved for the Miserere, which is +sung with the greatest variety of effect, the voices +swelling and dying away, from the softest <em>piano</em> to +the full strength of the choir. No wonder that it +should excite deep emotion in every heart. Moreover +they do not neglect the power of contrast; +verse after verse being chanted by all the male +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_177"> 177</a></span> +voices in unison, <em>forte</em>, and harshly. At the beginning +of the subsequent verses, the lovely, rich, soft +sounds of voices steal on the ear, lasting only for a +short space, and succeeded by a chorus of male +voices. During the verses sung in monotone, every +one knows how beautifully the softer choir are about +to uplift their voices; soon they are again heard, +again to die away too quickly, and before the +thoughts can be collected, the service is over.</p> + +<p>On the first day, when the Miserere of Baini was +given in the key of B minor, they sang thus:—"Miserere +mei Deus" to "misericordiam tuam" from +the music, with solo voices, two choirs using the +whole strength of voices at their command; then all +the bass singers commenced <em>tutti forte</em> by F sharp, +chanting on that note "et secundum multitudinem" +to "iniquitatem meam," which is immediately succeeded +by a soft chord in B minor, and so on, to the +last verse of all, which they sing with their entire +strength; a second short silent prayer ensues, when +all the Cardinals scrape their feet noisily on the pavement, +which betokens the close of the ceremony. My +little book says, "This noise is symbolical of the +tumult made by the Hebrews in seizing Christ." It +may be so, but it sounded exactly like the commotion +in the pit of a theatre, when the beginning of a play +is delayed, or when it is finally condemned. The +single taper still burning, is then brought from behind +the altar, and all silently disperse by its solitary light.</p> + +<p>On leaving the chapel, I must not omit to mention +the striking effect of the blazing chandelier lighting +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_178"> 178</a></span> +up the great vestibule, when the Cardinals and their +attendant priests traverse the illuminated Quirinal +through ranks of Swiss Guards. The Miserere sung +on the first day was Baini's, a composition entirely +devoid of life or power, like all his works; still it had +chords and music, and so it made a certain impression.</p> + +<p>On the second day they gave some pieces by Allegri +and Bai. On Good Friday all the music was +Bai's. As Allegri composed only one verse, on +which the rest are chanted, I heard the three compositions +which they gave on that day. It is however +quite immaterial which they sing, for the <em>embellimenti</em> +are pretty much the same in all three. Each chord +has its <em>embellimento</em>, thus very little of the original +composition is to be discovered. How these <em>embellimenti</em> +have crept in they will not say. It is maintained +that they are traditional; but this I entirely +disbelieve. In the first place no musical tradition is +to be relied on; besides, how is it possible to carry +down a five-part movement to the present time, from +mere hearsay? It does not sound like it. It is evident +that they have been more recently added; and +it appears to me that the director, having had good +high voices at his command, and wishing to employ +them during the Holy Week, wrote down for their +use ornamental phrases, founded on the simple unadorned +chords, to enable them to give full scope +and effect to their voices. They certainly are not of +ancient date, but are composed with infinite talent +and taste, and their effect is admirable; one in particular +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_179"> 179</a></span> +is often repeated, and makes so deep an impression, +that when it begins, an evident excitement +pervades all present; indeed, in any discussion as to +the mode of executing this music, and when people +say that the voices do not seem like the voices of +men, but those of angels from on high, and that these +sounds can never he heard elsewhere, it is this particular +<em>embellimento</em> to which they invariably allude. +For example, in the Miserere, whether that of Bai +or Allegri (for they have recourse to the same <em>embellimenti</em> +in both) these are the consecutive +chords:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/197a.jpg" width="300" height="68" alt="music197a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/197a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>Instead of this, they sing it so:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/197b.jpg" width="300" height="130" alt="music197b" /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_180"> 180</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/198.jpg" width="300" height="127" alt="music197b" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/197b.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>The soprano intones the high C in a pure soft +voice, allowing it to vibrate for a time, and slowly +gliding down, while the alto holds the C steadily, so +that at first I was under the delusion that the high +C was still held by the soprano; the skill, too, with +which the harmony is gradually developed is truly +admirable. The other <em>embellimenti</em> are adapted in +the same way to the consecutive chords: but the +first one is by far the most beautiful. I can give no +opinion as to the particular mode of executing the +music; but what I once read, that some particular +acoustic contrivance caused the continued vibration +of the sounds, is an entire fable, quite as much so as +the assertion that they sing from tradition, and without +any fixed time, one voice simply following the +other; for I saw plainly enough the shadow of Baini's +long arm moving up and down; indeed, he sometimes +struck his music-desk quite audibly. There is no +lack of mystery too, on the part of the singers and +others: for example, they never say beforehand +what particular Miserere they intend to sing, but +that it will be decided at the moment, etc., etc. +The key in which they sing, depends on the purity +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_181"> 181</a></span> +of the voices. The first day it was in B minor, the +second and third in E minor, but each time they +finished almost in B flat minor.</p> + +<p>The chief soprano, Mariano, came from the mountains +to Rome expressly to sing on this occasion, +and it is to him I owe hearing the <em>embellimenti</em> with +their highest notes. However careful and attentive +the singers may be, still the negligence and bad +habits of the whole previous year have their revenge, +consequently the most fearful dissonance sometimes +occurs.</p> + +<p>I must not forget to tell you that on the Thursday, +when the Miserere was about to begin, I clambered +up a ladder leaning against the wall, and was thus +placed close to the roof of the chapel, so that I +had the music, the priests, and the people far beneath +me in gloom and shadow. Seated thus alone +without the vicinity of any obtrusive stranger, the +impression made on me was very profound. But to +proceed: you must have had more than enough of +Misereres in these pages, and I intend to bring you +more particular details, both verbal and written.</p> + +<p>On Thursday, at half-past ten o'clock, high Mass +was celebrated. They sang an eight-part composition +of Fazzini's, in no way remarkable. I reserve +for you some <em>canti fermi</em> and antiphons, which I +wrote down at the time, and my little book describes +the order of the various services and the meaning of +the different ceremonies. At the "Gloria in Excelsis" +all the bells in Rome peal forth, and are not +rung again till after Good Friday. The hours are +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_182"> 182</a></span> +marked in the churches by wooden clappers. The +words of the "Gloria," the signal for all the strange +tumult of bells, were chanted from the altar by old +Cardinal Pacca, in a feeble trembling voice; this +being succeeded by the choirs and all the bells, had a +striking effect. After the "Credo" they sang the +"Fratres ego enim" of Palestrina, but in the most +unfinished and careless manner. The washing of +the pilgrims' feet followed, and a procession in which +all the singers join; Baini beating time from a large +book carried before him, making signs first to one, +and then to another, while the singers pressed forward +to look at the music, counting the time as they +walked, and then chiming in,—the Pope being borne +aloft in his state chair. All this I have already described +to my parents.</p> + +<p>In the evening there were Psalms, Lamentations, +Lessons, and the Miserere again, scarcely differing +from those of the previous day. One lesson was +chanted by a soprano solo on a peculiar melody, that +I mean to bring home with me. It is an adagio, in +long-drawn notes, and lasts a quarter of an hour at +least. There is no pause in the music, and the +melody lies very high, and yet it was executed with +the most pure, clear, and even intonation. The +singer did not drop his tone so much as a single +comma, the very last notes swelling and dying away +as even and full as at the beginning; it was, indeed, a +masterly performance. I was struck with the meaning +they attach to the word <em>appoggiatura</em>. If the melody +goes from C to D, or from C to E, they sing thus:—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_183"> 183</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/201a.jpg" width="300" height="50" alt="music201a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/201a.mid">Listen</a>] +[<a href="music/201b.mid">Listen</a>] +[<a href="music/201c.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/201d.jpg" width="300" height="76" alt="music201d" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/201d.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/201e.jpg" width="300" height="136" alt="music201e" /> +</div> + +<p>[<a href="music/201e.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>and this they call an <em>appoggiatura</em>. Whatever they +may choose to designate it, the effect is most disagreeable, +and it must require long habit not to be +discomposed by this strange practice, which reminds +me very much of our old women at home in church; +moreover the effect is the same. I saw in my book +that the "Tenebræ" was to be sung, and thinking +that it would interest you to know how it is given in +the Papal chapel, I was on the watch with a sharp-pointed +pencil when it commenced, and send you +herewith the principal parts. It was sung very +quick, and <em>forte</em> throughout, without exception. +The beginning was:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/202a.jpg" width="300" height="106" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/202a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_184"> 184</a></span></p> + +<p>Then</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/202b.jpg" width="300" height="268" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/202b.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + + +<p>I cannot help it, but I own it does irritate me to +hear such holy and touching words sung to such +dull, drawling music. They say it is <em>canto fermo</em>, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_185"> 185</a></span> +Gregorian, etc.; no matter. If at that period there +was neither the feeling nor the capability to write +in a different style, at all events we have now the +power to do so, and certainly this mechanical monotony +is not to be found in the scriptural words; +they are all truth and freshness, and moreover expressed +in the most simple and natural manner. +Why then make them sound like a mere formula? +and, in truth, such singing as this is nothing more! +The word "Pater" with a little flourish, the "meum" +with a little shake, the "ut quid me"—can this be +called sacred music? There is certainly no false +expression in it, because there is <em>none</em> of any kind; +but does not this very fact prove the desecration of +the words? A hundred times during the ceremony +I was driven wild by such things as these; and then +came people in a state of ecstasy, saying how splendid +it had all been. This sounded to me like a bad +joke, and yet they were quite in earnest!</p> + +<p>At Mass early on Friday morning, the chapel is +stripped of all its decorations, the altar uncovered, +and the Pope and Cardinals in mourning. The +"Passion," from St. John, was sung, composed by +Vittoria, but the words of the people in the chorus +alone are his, the rest are chanted according to an established +formula: but more of this hereafter. The +whole appeared to me too trivial and monotonous, +I was quite out of humour, and, in fact, dissatisfied +with the affair altogether. One of the two following +modes ought to be adopted. The "Passion" ought +either to be recited quietly by the priest, as St. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_186"> 186</a></span> +John relates it, in which case there is no occasion +for the chorus to sing "Crucifige eum," nor for the +alto to represent Pilate—or else the scene should be +so thoroughly realized, that it ought to make me feel +as if I were actually present, and saw it all myself. +In that event, Pilate ought to sing just as he would +have spoken, the chorus shout out "Crucifige" in a +tone anything but sacred; and then, through the +impress of entire truth, and the dignity of the object +represented, the singing would become sacred church +music.</p> + +<p>I require no under-current of thought when I hear +music, which is not to me "a mere medium to elevate +the mind to piety," as they say here, but a distinct +language speaking plainly to me; for though the +sense is <em>expressed</em> by the words, it is equally contained +in the music. This is the case with the +"Passion" of Sebastian Bach; but as they sing it +here, it is very imperfect, being neither a simple +narrative, nor yet a grand solemn dramatic truth. +The chorus sings "Barabbam" to the same sacred +chords as "et in terra pax." Pilate speaks exactly +in the same manner as the Evangelist. The voice +that represents our blessed Saviour commences +always <em>piano</em>, in order to have one definite distinction, +but when the chorus breaks loose, shouting out +their sacred chords, it seems entirely devoid of +meaning. Pray forgive these strictures. I now +proceed to simple narration again. The Evangelist +is a tenor, and the mode of chanting, the same as +that of the Lessons, with a peculiar falling cadence +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_187"> 187</a></span> +at the comma, interrogation, and full stop. The +Evangelist intones on D, and sings thus at a full +stop:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/205a.jpg" width="250" height="55" alt="music205a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/205a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>at a comma:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/205b.jpg" width="200" height="56" alt="music052b" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/205b.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>and at the conclusion, when another personage +enters, so:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/205c.jpg" width="250" height="51" alt="music205c" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/205c.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>Christ is represented by a bass, and commences +always thus:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/205d.jpg" width="300" height="61" alt="music205d" /> +</div> + + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/205d.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>I could not catch the formula, though I noted down +several parts, which I can show you when I return: +among others, the words spoken on the Cross. All +the other personages,—Pilate, Peter, the Maid, and +the High Priest,—are altos, and sing this melody +only:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/205e.jpg" width="200" height="52" alt="music205e" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/205e.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_188"> 188</a></span> +The chorus sings the words of the people from +their places above, while everything else is sung +from the altar. I must really mark down here as a +curiosity the "Crucifige," just as I noted it at the +time:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/206.jpg" width="300" height="238" alt="music206" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/206.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>The "Barabbam" too is most singular;—very +tame Jews indeed! But my letter is already too +long, so I shall discuss the subject no further. +Prayers are then offered up for all nations and institutions, +each separately designated. When the +prayer for the Jews is uttered, no one kneels, as +they do at all the others, nor is Amen said. They +pray <em>pro perfidis Judæis</em>, and the author of my +book discovers an explanation of this also. Then +follows the Adoration of the Cross; a small crucifix +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_189"> 189</a></span> +is placed in the centre of the chapel, and all approach +barefooted (without shoes), fall down before +it and kiss it; during this time the "Improperia" +are sung. I have only once heard this composition, +but it seems to me to be one of Palestrina's finest +works, and they sing it with remarkable enthusiasm. +There is surprising delicacy and harmony in its +execution by the choir; they are careful to place +every passage in its proper light, and to render it +sufficiently prominent without making it too conspicuous—one +chord blending softly with the other. +Moreover, the ceremony is very solemn and dignified, +and the most profound silence reigns in the +chapel.</p> + +<p>They sing the oft-recurring Greek "Holy" in +the most admirable manner, each time with the +sane smoothness and expression. You will be not +a little surprised, however, when you see it written +down, for they sing as follows:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/207.jpg" width="300" height="157" alt="music207" /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_190"> 190</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/208.jpg" width="300" height="178" alt="music207" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/207.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>Such passages as that at the commencement, +where all the voices sing the very same embellishment, +repeatedly occur, and the ear becomes accustomed +to them. The effect of the whole is +undoubtedly superb. I only wish you could hear +the tenors in the first chorus, and the mode in which +they take the high A on the word "Theos;" the +note is so long-drawn and ringing, though softly +breathed, that it sounds most touching. This is +repeated again and again till all in the chapel have +performed the Adoration of the Cross; but as on +this occasion the crowd was not very great, I unluckily +had not the opportunity of hearing it as +often as I could have wished.</p> + +<p>I quite understand why the "Improperias" produced +the strongest effect on Goethe, for they are +nearly the most faultless of all, as both music and +ceremonies, and everything connected with them, +are in the most entire harmony. A procession follows +to fetch the Host, which had been exposed and +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_191"> 191</a></span> +adored on the previous evening in another chapel of +the Quirinal, lighted up by many hundred wax-lights. +The morning service closed at half-past one with a +hymn in <em>canto fermo</em>. At half-past three in the +afternoon the first nocturn began, with the Psalms, +Lessons, etc. I corrected what I had written +down, heard the Miserere of Baini, and about seven +o'clock followed the Cardinals home through the +illuminated vestibule—so all was now seen, and all +was now over.</p> + +<p>I was anxious, dear Professor, to describe the +Holy Week to you minutely, as they were memorable +days to me, every hour bringing with it something +interesting and long anticipated. I also +particularly rejoiced in feeling that, in spite of the +excitement and the numerous discussions in praise +or blame, the solemnities made as vivid an impression +on me, as if I had been quite free from all +previous prejudice or prepossession. I thus saw the +truth confirmed, that perfection, even in a sphere +the most foreign to us, leaves its own stamp on the +mind. May you read this long letter with even half +the pleasure I feel in recalling the period of the +Holy Week at Rome.</p> + +<p class="right">Yours faithfully,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy</span></p> +<hr class="c5" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_192"> 192</a></span></p> + + +<h3>Florence, June 25th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>Dear Sisters,</p> + +<p>On such a day as this my paternal home and those +I love are much in my thoughts; my feelings on +this point are rather singular. If I feel at any time +unwell, or fatigued, or out of humour, I have no +particular longing for my own home or for my +family; but when brighter days ensue, when every +hour makes an indelible impression, and every +moment brings with it glad and pleasant sensations +then I ardently wish that I were with you, or you +with me; and no minute passes without my thinking +of one or other of you, to whom I have something +particular to say.</p> + +<p>I have to-day passed the whole forenoon, from ten +till three, in the gallery; it was glorious! Besides +all the beautiful work I saw, from which so much +fresh benefit is always to be derived, I wandered +about among the pictures, feeling so much sympathy, +and such kindly emotions in gazing at them. I now +first thoroughly realized the great charm of a large +collection of the highest works of art. You pass +from one to the other, sitting and dreaming for an +hour before some picture, and then on to the next.</p> + +<p>Yesterday was a holiday here, so to-day the Palazzo +degli Uffizi was crowded with people who had +come into the city to see the races, and to visit the +far-famed gallery; chiefly peasants, male and female, +in their country costumes. All the apartments +were thrown open, and as I was about to contemplate +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_193"> 193</a></span> +them for the last time. I contrived to slip +quietly through the crowd, and to remain quite +solitary, for I knew that I had not one acquaintance +among them.</p> + +<p>The busts of the various princes who founded and +enriched this collection, are placed near the entrance, +at the top of the staircase. I suppose I must have +been peculiarly susceptible to-day, for the faces of +the Medici interested me exceedingly; they looked +so noble and refined, so proud and so dignified. I +stood looking at them for a long time, and imprinted +on my memory those countenances of world-wide +renown.</p> + +<p>I then went to the Tribune. This room is so delightfully +small you can traverse it in fifteen paces, +and yet it contains a world of art. I again sought +out my favourite armchair, which stands under the +statue of the "Slave Whetting his Knife" (<em>L'Arrotino</em>), +and taking possession of it, I enjoyed myself +for a couple of hours; for here, at one glance, I had +the "Madonna del Cardellino," "Pope Julius II.," a +female portrait by Raphael, and above it a lovely +Holy Family, by Perugino; and so close to me that +I could have touched the statue with my hand, the +Venus de' Medici; beyond, that of Titian; on the +other side, the "Apollino" and the "Wrestlers" +(<em>Lottatori</em>); in front of the Raphael, the merry +Greek Dancing Faun, who seems to feel an uncouth +delight in discordant music, for the fellow has just +struck two cymbals together, and is listening to the +sound, while treading with his foot on a kind of +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_194"> 194</a></span> +Pan's pipes, as an accompaniment: what a clown he +is! The space between is occupied by other pictures +of Raphael's, a portrait by Titian, a Domenichino, +etc., and all these within the circumference of +a small semicircle, no larger than one of your own +rooms. This is a spot where a man feels his own +insignificance, and may well learn to be humble.</p> + +<p>I occasionally walked through the other rooms, +where a large picture by Leonardo da Vinci, only +commenced and sketched in, with all its wild dashes +and strokes, is very suggestive. I was especially +struck with the genius of the monk Fra Bartolommeo, +who must have been a man of the most devout, +tender, and earnest spirit. There is a small picture +of his here, which I discovered for myself. It is +about the size of this sheet of paper, in two divisions, +and represents the "Adoration" and the "Presentation +in the Temple." The figures are about two-thirds +of a finger-length in size, but finished in the +most exquisite and consummate manner, with the +most brilliant colouring, the brightest decorations, +and in the most genial sunshine. You can see in +the picture itself, that the pious <em>maestro</em> has taken +delight in painting it, and in finishing the most minute +details; probably with the view of giving it +away, to gratify some friend. We feel as if the +painter belonged to it, and still ought to be sitting +before his work, or had only this moment left it. I +felt the same with regard to many pictures to-day, +especially that of the "Madonna del Cardellino," +which Raphael painted as a wedding-gift, and a surprise +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_195"> 195</a></span> +for his friend. I could not help meditating on +all these great men, so long passed away from earth, +though their whole inner soul is still displayed in +such lustre to us, and to all the world.</p> + +<p>While reflecting on these things, I came by chance +into the room containing the portraits of great +painters. I formerly merely regarded them in the +light of valuable curiosities, for there are more +than three hundred portraits, chiefly painted by the +masters themselves, so that you see at the same +moment the man and his work; but to-day a fresh +idea dawned on me with regard to them,—that each +painter resembles his own productions, and that +each while painting his own likeness, has been careful +to represent himself just as he really was. In +this way you become personally acquainted with all +these great men, and thus a new light is shed on +many things. I will discuss this point more minutely +with you when we meet; but I must not omit to +say, that the portrait of Raphael is almost the most +touching likeness I have yet seen of him. In the +centre of a large rich screen, entirely covered with +portraits, hangs a small solitary picture, without +any particular designation, but the eye is instantly +arrested by it; this is Raphael—youthful, very pale +and delicate, and with such onward aspirations, +such longing and wistfulness in the mouth and eyes, +that it is as if you could see into his very soul. +That he cannot succeed in expressing all that he +sees and feels, and is thus impelled to go forward, +and that he must die an early death,—all this is +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_196"> 196</a></span> +written on his mournful, suffering, yet fervid countenance, +and when looking at his dark eyes, which +glance at you out of the very depths of his soul, +and at the pained and contracted mouth, you cannot +resist a feeling of awe.</p> + +<p>How I wish you could see the portrait that hangs +above it; that of Michael Angelo, an ugly, muscular, +savage, rugged fellow, in all the vigour of life, looking +gruff and morose; and on the other side a wise, +grave man, with the aspect of a lion, Leonardo da +Vinci; but you cannot see this portrait, and I will +not describe it in writing, but tell you of it when we +meet. Believe me, however, it is truly glorious. +Then I passed on to the Niobe, which of all statues +makes the greatest impression on me; and back +again to my painters, and to the Tribune, and +through the Corridors, where the Roman Emperors, +with their dignified yet knavish physiognomies, +stare you in the face; and last of all I took a final +leave of the Medici family.</p> + +<p>It was indeed a morning never to be forgotten.</p> + +<h3>June 26th.</h3> + +<p>Do not suppose however that I mean to assert +that all days are spent thus. You must battle your +way through the present living mob, before you can +arrive at the nobility, long since dead, and those +who have not a strong arm are sure to come badly +off in the conflict. Such a journey as mine from +Rome to Perugia, and on here, is no joke. Jean +Paul says that the presence of a person who openly +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_197"> 197</a></span> +hates you is most painful and oppressive. Such a +being is the Roman <em>vetturino</em>: he grants you no +sleep; exposes you to hunger and thirst; at night, +when he is bound to provide you with your <em>pranzo</em>, +he contrives that you shall not arrive till midnight, +when every one is of course asleep, and you are +only too thankful to get a bed. In the morning he +sets off before four o'clock, and rests his horses at +noon for five hours, but invariably in some solitary +little wayside inn, where nothing is to be had. Each +day he makes out about six German miles, and +drives <em>piano</em>, while the sun burns <em>fortissimo</em>.</p> + +<p>I was very badly off owing to all this, for my +fellow-travellers were far from being congenial; +three Jesuits inside, and in the cabriolet, where I +particularly desired to sit, a most disagreeable Venetian +lady. If I wished to escape from her, I was +obliged to go inside, and listen to the praises of +Charles X., and to hear that Ariosto ought to have +been burnt as a corrupt writer, subversive of all +morality. It was still worse outside, and we never +seemed to get on. The first day, after a journey of +four hours, the axletree broke, and we were obliged +to remain for nine hours in the same house in the +Campagna where we chanced to be, and at last to +stay all night. If there was a church on the road +that we had an opportunity of visiting, the most +beautiful and devotional creations of Perugino, or +Giotto, or Cimabue, enchanted our eyes; and so we +passed from irritation to delight, and then to irritation +again. This was a wretched state to be in. I +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_198"> 198</a></span> +was not in the least amused by it all; and if Nature +had not bestowed on us bright moonshine at the +Lake of Thrasymene, and if the scenery had not +been so wonderfully fine, and if in every town we +had not seen a superb church, and if we had not +passed through a large city each day as we journeyed +on, and if—but you see I am not easily satisfied.</p> + +<p>The route however was beautiful, and I must now +describe my arrival in Florence, which also includes +my whole Italian life of the previous days. At Incisa, +half a day's journey from Florence, my <em>vetturino</em> +became so intolerable from his insolence and +abuse, that I found it necessary to take out my +luggage, and to tell him to drive to the devil,—which +he accordingly did, rather against his will.</p> + +<p>It was Midsummer's day, and a celebrated fête +was to take place in Florence the same evening, +which I would on no account whatever have missed. +This is just the kind of thing that the Italians take +advantage of, so the landlady at Incisa offered me a +carriage at four times the proper fare. When I refused +to take it, she said I might try to procure +another; and so I accordingly did, but found that no +carriages for hire were to be had, only post-horses. +I went to the Post, and was there told, to my disgust, +that they were at my landlady's, and that she +had wished to make me pay an exorbitant price for +them. I went back and demanded horses. She +said, if I did not choose to pay what she asked, I +should have none. I desired to see the regulations, +which they are all obliged to have. She said there +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_199"> 199</a></span> +was no occasion to show them, and turned her back +on me. The use of physical strength, which plays a +great part here, was resorted to by me on this occasion, +for I seized her and pushed her back into a +room (for we were standing in the passage) and then +hurried down the street to the Podestà. It turned +out however that there was no such person in the +town, but that he lived four miles off. The affair +became every instant more disagreeable, the crowd +of boys at my heels increasing at every step. Fortunately +a decent-looking man came up, to whom the +mob seemed to show some respect; so I accosted +him, and explained all that had occurred. He sympathized +with me, and took me to a vine-dresser's +who had a little carriage for hire.</p> + +<p>The whole crowd now congregated before his door, +many pressing forward into the house after me, and +shouting that I was mad; but the carriage drove up, +and I threw a few scudi to an old beggar, on which +they all called out that I was a <em>bravo Signore</em>, and +wished me <em>buon viaggio</em>. The moderate price the +man demanded more fully showed me the abominable +overcharge of the landlady. The carriage was easy, +and the horses went on at a good pace, and so we +travelled across the hills to Florence. In the course +of half an hour we overtook my lazy vetturino. I +put up my umbrella to defend me from the sun, and +I scarcely ever travelled so pleasantly and so comfortably +as during those few hours, having left all +annoyances behind me, and before me the prospect +of the beautiful fête.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_200"> 200</a></span> +Very soon the Duomo, and the hundreds of villas +scattered through the valleys, were visible. Once +more we passed by decorated terraces, and the tops +of trees seen over them; the Arno valley looking +lovelier than ever. And so I arrived here in good +spirits and dined; and even while doing so I heard a +tumult, and looking out of the window I saw crowds, +both young and old, all hurrying in their holiday +costumes across the bridges.</p> + +<p>I followed them to the Corso, and then to the +races; afterwards to the illuminated Pergola, and +last of all to a masked ball in the Goldoni Theatre. +At one o'clock in the morning I went towards home, +thinking that the whole affair was over; but the +Arno was still covered with gondolas, illuminated by +coloured lamps, and crossing each other in every +direction. Under the bridge a large ship was passing, +hung with green lanterns; the water shone +brightly as it rippled along, while a still brighter +moon looked down on the whole scene. I recalled +to myself the various occurrences of the day, and +the thoughts that had chased each other through +my mind, and resolved to write them all to you. It +is in fact a reminiscence for myself, for it may not be +so suggestive to you, but it will one day be of service +to me, enabling me to recall various scenes +connected with fair Italy.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_201"> 201</a></span></p> + +<p class="center smcap">Extract from a Letter to Frau von Pereira, +in Vienna.</p> + +<h3>Genoa, July, 1831.</h3> + +<p>At first I resolved not to answer your letter until +I had fulfilled your injunctions, and composed +"Napoleon's Midnight Review;" and now I have +to ask your forgiveness for not having done so, +but there is a peculiarity in this matter. I take +music in a very serious light, and I consider it quite +inadmissible to compose anything that I do not +thoroughly feel. It is just as if I were to utter a +falsehood; for notes have as distinct a meaning as +words, perhaps even a more definite sense. Now it +appears to me almost impossible to compose for a +descriptive poem. The mass of compositions of this +nature do not militate against this opinion, but +rather prove its truth; for I am not acquainted with +one single work of the kind that has been successful. +You are placed between a dramatic conception or a +mere narrative; the one, in the "Erl König," causes +the willows to rustle, the child to shriek, and the +horse to gallop. The other imagines a ballad singer, +calmly narrating the horrible tale, as you would a +ghost story, and this is the most accurate view of +the two; Reichardt almost invariably adopted this +reading, but it does not suit me; the music stands +in my way. I feel in a far more spectral spirit when +I read such a poem quietly to myself, and imagine +the rest, than when it is depicted, or related to me.</p> + +<p>It does not answer to look on "Napoleon's Midnight +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_202"> 202</a></span> +Review" as a narrative, inasmuch as no +particular person speaks, and the poem is not written +in the style of a ballad. It seems to me more like a +clever conception than a poem; it strikes me that +the poet himself placed no great faith in his misty +forms.</p> + +<p>I could indeed have composed music for it in the +same descriptive style, as Neukomm and Fischhof, +in Vienna. I might have introduced a very novel +rolling of drums in the bass, and blasts of trumpets +in the treble, and have brought in all sorts of hobgoblins. +But I love my serious elements of sound +too well to do anything of the sort; for this kind of +thing always appears to me a joke; somewhat like +the painting's in juvenile spelling-books, where +the roofs are coloured bright red, to make the +children aware they are intended for roofs; and I +should have been most reluctant to write out and +send you anything incomplete, or that did not entirely +please myself, because I always wish you to +have the best I can accomplish.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Milan, July 14th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>This letter will probably be the last (D.V.) that I +shall write to you from an Italian city; I may possibly +send you another from the Borromean Islands, +which I intend to visit in a few days, but do not rely +on this.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_203"> 203</a></span> +My week here has been one of the most agreeable +and amusing that I have passed in Italy; and how +this could be the case in Milan, hitherto utterly unknown +to me, I shall now proceed to relate. In the +first place, I immediately secured a small piano, and +attacked with <em>rabbia</em> that endless "Walpurgis +Night," to finish the thing at last; and to-morrow +morning it will be completed, except the overture; +for as yet I have not quite made up my mind whether +it shall be a grand symphony, or a short introduction +breathing of spring. I should like to take the +opinion of some adept on this point. I must say +the conclusion has turned out better than I myself +expected. The hobgoblins and the bearded Druid, +with the trombones sounding behind him, diverted +me immensely, and so I passed two forenoons very +happily.</p> + +<p>'Tasso' also contributed to my pleasure, which I +have now for the first time been able to read with +facility; it is a splendid poem. I was glad to be +already well acquainted with Goethe's 'Tasso;' +being constantly reminded of it by the principal +passages of the Italian poet, whose verse, like that +of Goethe, is so dreamy, harmonious, and tender, its +sweet melody delighting the ear. Your favourite +passage, dear father, "Era la notte allor," struck me +as very beautiful, but the stanzas that I admire +most, are those descriptive of Clorinda's death; +they are so wonderfully imaginative, and fine. The +close however does not quite please me. Tancred's +'Lamentations' are, I think, more charmingly composed +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_204"> 204</a></span> +than true to nature; they contain too many +clever ideas and antitheses; and even the words of +the hermit, which soothe him, sound more like a +censure on the hermit himself. I should infallibly +have killed him on the spot, if he had talked to me +in such a strain.</p> + +<p>Recently I was reading the episode of 'Armida' +in a carriage, surrounded by a company of Italian +actors, who were incessantly singing Rossini's "Ma +trema, trema," when suddenly there recurred to my +thoughts Gluck's "Vous m'allez quitter," and Rinaldo's +falling asleep, and the voyage in the air—and +I felt in a most melting mood. This is genuine +music; thus have men felt, and thus have men +spoken, and such strains can never die. I do cordially +hate the present licentious style. Do not take +it amiss; your motto is, Without hatred, no love,—and +I did feel so moved when I thought of Gluck, +and his grand embodiments.</p> + +<p>Every evening I was in society, owing to a mad +prank, which however proved very successful. I +think I have invented this kind of eccentric proceeding, +and may take out a patent for it, as I have +already made my most agreeable acquaintances <em>ex +abrupto</em>, without letters or introductions of any +kind.</p> + +<p>I asked by chance on my arrival at Milan the +name of the Commandant, and the <em>laquais de place</em> +named General Ertmann. I instantly thought of +Beethoven's Sonata in A major, and its dedication; +and as I had heard all that was good of Madame +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_205"> 205</a></span> +Ertmann, from those who knew her; that she was +so kind, and had bestowed such loving care on +Beethoven, and played herself so beautifully, I, next +morning, at a suitable hour for a visit, put on a +black coat, desired that the Government-house +should be pointed out to me, and occupied myself +on the way thither by composing some pretty +speeches for the General's lady, and went on boldly.</p> + +<p>I cannot however deny that I felt rather dismayed +when I was told that the General lived in the first +story, facing the street; and when I was fairly in +the splendid vaulted hall, I was seized with a sudden +panic, and would fain have turned back: but I +could not help thinking that it was vastly provincial +on my part to take fright at a vaulted hall, so I +went straight up to a group of soldiers standing +near, and asked an old man in a short nankeen +jacket, if General Ertmann lived there, intending +then to send in my name to the lady. Unluckily +the man replied, "I am General Ertmann: what is +your pleasure?" This was unpleasant, as I was +forced to have recourse to the speech I had prepared. +The General, however, did not seem particularly +edified by my statement, and wished to +know whom he had the honour of addressing. This +also was far from agreeable, but fortunately he was +acquainted with my name, and became very polite: +his wife, he said was not at home, but I should find +her at two o'clock, or any hour after that which +might suit me.</p> + +<p>I was glad that all had gone off so well, and in +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_206"> 206</a></span> +the meantime went to the Brera, where I passed the +time in studying the 'Sposalizio' of Raphael, and +at two o'clock I presented myself to Freifrau +Dorothea von Ertmann. She received me with +much courtesy, and was most obliging, playing me +Beethoven's Sonata in C sharp minor, and the one +in D minor. The old General, who now appeared +in his handsome grey uniform, covered with orders, +was quite enchanted, and had tears of delight in +his eyes, because it was so long since he had heard +his wife play; he said there was not a person in +Milan who cared to hear what I had heard. She +mentioned the trio in B major, but said she could +not remember it. I played it, and sang the other +parts: this enchanted the old couple, and so their +acquaintance was soon made.</p> + +<p>Since then their kindness to me is so great that it +quite overwhelms me. The old General shows me +all the remarkable objects in Milan; in the afternoon +his lady takes me in her carriage to drive on +the Corso, and at night we have music till one +o'clock in the morning. Yesterday at an early hour +they drove with me in the environs; at noon I dined +with them, and in the evening there was a party. +They are the most agreeable and cultivated couple +you can imagine, and both as much in love with each +other as if they were a newly wedded pair,—and +yet they have been married for four-and-thirty years. +Yesterday he spoke of his profession, of military +life, of personal courage, and similar subjects, with +a degree of lucidity, and liberality of feeling, that +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_207"> 207</a></span> +I scarcely ever met with, except in my father. The +General has been now an officer for six-and-forty +years, and you should really see him galloping beside +his wife's carriage in the park,—the old gentleman +looking so dignified and animated!</p> + +<p>She plays Beethoven's works admirably, though +it is so long since she studied them; she sometimes +rather exaggerates the expression, dwelling too long +on one passage, and then hurrying the next; but +there are many parts that she plays splendidly, and +I think I have learned something from her. When +sometimes she can bring no more tone out of the +instrument, and begins to sing in a voice that emanates +from the very depths of her soul, she reminds +me of you, dear Fanny, though you are infinitely +her superior. When I was approaching the end of +the adagio in the B major trio, she exclaimed, "The +amount of expression here is beyond any one's playing;" +and it is quite true of this passage.</p> + +<p>The following day, when I went there again to +play her the symphony in C minor, she insisted on +my taking off my coat, as the day was so hot. In +the intervals of our music she related the most interesting +anecdotes of Beethoven, and that when +she was playing to him in the evening he not unfrequently +used the snuffers as a tooth-pick! She told +me that when she lost her last child, Beethoven at +first shrank from coming to her house; but at length +he invited her to visit him, and when she arrived, +she found him seated at the piano, and simply +saying, "Let us speak to each other by music," he +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_208"> 208</a></span> +played on for more than an hour, and, as she expressed +it, "he said much to me, and at last gave +me consolation." In short I am now in the most +genial mood, and quite at my ease, having no +occasion to resort to any disguise, or to be silent, +for we understand each other admirably on all +points. She played the Kreutzer Sonata yesterday +with violin accompaniment, and when the violin-player +(an Austrian cavalry officer) made a long +flourish, <em>à la</em> Paganini, at the beginning of the +adagio, the old General made such a desperate +grimace, that I nearly fell off my chair from +laughing.</p> + +<p>I called on Teschner, as you, dear mother, desired +me to do so; such a musician however is as depressing +as a thick fog. Madame Ertmann has more +soul in her little finger than that fellow has in his +whole body, with his formidable moustaches, behind +which he seems to lie in ambush. There is no +public music in Milan; they still speak with enthusiasm +of last winter, when Pasta and Rubini sang +here, but say that they were miserably supported, +and the orchestra and choruses bad. I however +heard Pasta six years ago in Paris, and I can do the +same every year, with the addition of a good orchestra +and a good chorus, and many other advantages; +so it is evident that if I wish to hear Italian music, +I must go to Paris or to England. The Germans +however take it amiss when you say this, and persist +<em>par force</em> in singing, playing, and acquiring new +ideas here, declaring this is the land of inspiration; +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_209"> 209</a></span> +while I maintain that inspiration is peculiar to no +country, but floats about in the air.</p> + +<p>Two days ago I was in the morning theatre here, +and was amused. There you can see more of +the life of the people than in any other part of Italy. +It is a large theatre with boxes, the pit filled with +wooden benches, on which you can find places if you +come early; the stage is like every other stage, but +there is no roof either over the pit or boxes, so that +the bright sun shines into the theatre and into the +eyes of the actors. Moreover, the piece they gave +was in the Milanese dialect. You feel as if you +were secretly watching all these complicated and +diverting situations, and might take part in them if +necessary, and thus the most familiar comic dilemmas +become novel and interesting; and the public +seem to feel the most lively interest in them. And +now, good night. I wished to talk to you a little +before going to bed, and so it has become a letter.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> +<p class="center smcap">Extracts from two Letters to Edward Devrient.</p> + +<h3>Milan, July 15th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>You reproach me with being two-and-twenty without +having yet acquired fame. To this I can only +reply, had it been the will of Providence that I +should be renowned at the age of two-and-twenty, I +no doubt should have been so. I cannot help it, for +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_210"> 210</a></span> +I no more write to gain a name, than to obtain a +Kapellmeister's place. It would be a good thing if +I could secure both. But so long as I do not +actually starve, so long is it my duty to write only +as I feel, and according to what is in my heart, and +to leave the results to <em>Him</em> who disposes of other +and greater matters. Every day, however, I am +more sincerely anxious to write exactly as I feel, +and to have even less regard than ever to external +views; and when I have composed a piece just as it +sprang from my heart, then I have done my duty +towards it; and whether it brings hereafter fame, +honour, decorations, or snuff-boxes, etc., is a matter +of indifference to me. If you mean, however, that I +have neglected, or delayed perfecting myself, or my +compositions, then I beg you will distinctly and +clearly say in what respect and wherein I have done +so. This would be indeed a serious reproach.</p> + +<p>You wish me to write operas, and think I am +unwise not to have done so long ago. I answer, +place a right libretto in my hand, and in two months +the work shall be completed, for every day I feel +more eager to write an opera. I think that it may +become something fresh and spirited, if I begin it +now; but I have got no words yet, and I assuredly +never will write music for any poetry that does not +inspire me with enthusiasm. If you know a man +capable of writing the libretto of an opera, for +Heaven's sake tell me his name, that is all I want. +But till I have the words, you would not wish me to +be idle—even if it were possible for me to be so?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_211"> 211</a></span> +I have recently written a good deal of sacred +music; that is quite as much a necessity to me, as +the impulse that often induces people to study some +particular book, the Bible, or others, as the only +reading they care for at the time. If it bears any +resemblance to Sebastian Bach, it is again no fault +of mine, for I wrote it just according to the mood I +was in; and if the words inspired me with a mood +akin to that of old Bach, I shall value it all the +more, for I am sure you do not think that I would +merely copy his form, without the substance; if it +were so, I should feel such disgust and such a void, +that I could never again finish a composition. +Since then I have written a grand piece of music +which will probably impress the public at large—the +first "Walpurgis Night" of Goethe. I began +it simply because it pleased me, and inspired me +with fervour, and never thought that it was to be +performed; but now that it lies finished before me, I +see that it is quite suitable for a great <em>Concertstück</em>, +and you must sing the Bearded Pagan Priest at my +first subscription concert in Berlin. I wrote it expressly +to suit your voice; and as I have hitherto +found that the pieces I have composed with least +reference to the public are precisely those which +gave them the greatest satisfaction, so no doubt it +will be on this occasion also. I only mention this +to prove to you that I do not neglect <em>the practical</em>. +To be sure this is invariably an after-thought, for +who the deuce could write music, the most unpractical +thing in the world—the very reason why I love +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_212"> 212</a></span> +it so dearly—and yet think all the time of the practical! +It is just as if a lover were to bring a +declaration of love to his mistress in rhyme and +verse, and recite it to her.</p> + +<p>I am now going to Munich, where they have +offered me an opera, to see if I can find a man there +who is a poet, for I will only have a man who has +a certain portion of fire and genius. I do not expect +a giant, and if I fail in meeting with a poet +there, I shall probably make Immermann's acquaintance +for this express purpose, and if he is not the +man either, I shall try for him in London. I always +fancy that the right man has not yet appeared; but +what can I do to find him out? He certainly does +not live in the Reichmann Hotel, nor next door; so +where does he live? Pray write to me on this subject; +although I firmly believe that a kind Providence, +who sends us all things in due time when we +stand in need of them, will supply this also if +necessary; still we must do our duty, and look +round us—and I do wish the libretto were found.</p> + +<p>In the meantime I write as good music as I can, +and hope to make progress, and we already agreed, +when discussing this affair in my room, that, as I +said before, I am not responsible for the rest. But +enough now of this dry tone. I really have become +once more almost morose and impatient, and yet I +had so firmly resolved never again to be so!</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_213"> 213</a></span></p> + +<h3>Lucerne, August 27th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>I quite feel that any opera I were to write now, +would not be nearly so good as any second one I +might compose afterwards; and that I must first +enter on the new path I propose to myself, and pursue +it for some little time, in order to discover +whither it will lead, and how far it will go, whereas +in instrumental music I already begin to know exactly +what I really intend. Having worked so much +in this sphere, I feel much more clear and tranquil +with regard to it—in short, it urges me onwards. +Besides, I have been made very humble lately, by a +chance occurrence that still dwells on my mind.</p> + +<p>In the valley of Engelberg I found Schiller's +"Wilhelm Tell," and on reading it over again, I +was anew enchanted and fascinated by such a glorious +work of art, and by all the passion, fire, and +fervour it displays. An expression of Goethe's +suddenly recurred to my mind. In the course of +a long conversation about Schiller, he said that +Schiller had been able to <em>supply</em> two great tragedies +every year, besides other poems. This business-like +term <em>supply</em>, struck me as the more remarkable on +reading this fresh, vigorous work; and such energy +seemed to me so wonderfully grand, that I felt as if +in the course of my life I had never yet produced +anything of importance; all my works seem so +isolated. I feel as if I too must one day <em>supply</em> +something. Pray do not think this presumptuous; +but rather believe that I only say so because I know +what <em>ought</em> to be, and what <em>is not</em>. Where I am +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_214"> 214</a></span> +to find the opportunity, or even a glimpse of one, is +hitherto to me quite a mystery. If however it be +my mission, I firmly believe that the opportunity +will be granted, and if I do not profit by it another +will; but in that case I cannot divine why I feel +such an impulse to press onwards. If you could +succeed in not thinking about singers, decorations, +and situations, but feel solely absorbed in representing +men, nature, and life, I am convinced that you +would yourself write the best libretto of any one +living; for a person who is so familiar with the +stage as you are, could not possibly write anything +undramatic, and I really do not know what you +could wish to change in your poetry. If there be +an innate feeling for nature and melody, the verses +cannot fail to be musical, even though they sound +rather lame in the libretto; but so far as I am concerned, +you may write prose if you like, I will +compose music for it. But when one form is to be +moulded into another, when the verses are to be +made musically, but not <em>felt</em> musically, when fine +words are to replace outwardly what is utterly +deficient in fine feeling inwardly—there you are +right—this is a dilemma from which no man can +extricate himself; for as surely as pure metre, +happy thoughts, and classical language do not +suffice to make a good poem, unless a certain flash +of poetical inspiration pervades the whole, so an +opera can only become thoroughly musical, and +accordingly thoroughly dramatic, by a vivid feeling +of life in all the characters.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_215"> 215</a></span> +There is a passage on this subject in Beaumarchais, +who is censured because he makes his +personages utter too few fine thoughts, and has put +too few poetical phrases into their mouths. He +answers, that this is not his fault. He must confess +that during the whole time he was writing the piece, +he was engaged in the most lively conversation with +his <em>dramatis personæ</em>: that while seated at his writing +table he was exclaming: "Figaro, prends garde, +le Comte sait tout!—Ah! Comtesse, quelle imprudence!—vite, +sauve-toi, petit page;" and then he +wrote down their answers, whatever they chanced +to be,—nothing more. This strikes me as being +both true and charming.</p> + +<p>The sketch of the opera introducing an Italian +Carnival, and the close in Switzerland, I already +knew, but was not aware that it was yours. Be so +good however as to describe Switzerland with great +vigour, and immense spirit. If you are to depict +an effeminate Switzerland, with <em>jodeln</em> and languishing, +such as I saw here in the theatre last night in +the 'Swiss Family,' when the very mountains and +Alpine horns became sentimental, I shall lose all +patience, and criticize you severely in Spener's +paper. I beg you will make it full of animation, +and write to me again on the subject.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Isola Bella, July 24th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>You no doubt imagine that you inhale the fragrance +of orange-flowers, see blue sky, and a bright +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_216"> 216</a></span> +sun, and a clear lake, when you merely read the +date of this letter. Not at all! The weather is +atrocious, rain pouring down, and claps of thunder +heard at intervals;—the hills look frightfully bleak, +as if the world were enshrouded in clouds; the lake +is grey, and the sky sombre. I can smell no orange-flowers, +and this island might quite as appropriately +be called "Isola Brutta!" and this has gone on for +three days! My unfortunate cloak! I am confessedly +the "spirit of negation" (I refer to my +mother), and as it is at present the fashion with +every one not to consider the Borromean Islands +"by any means so beautiful," and somewhat formal; +and as the weather seems resolved to disgust me +with this spot,—from a spirit of opposition I maintain +that it is perfectly lovely. The approach to +these islands, where you see crowded together green +terraces with quaint statues, and many old-fashioned +decorations, along with verdant foliage, and every +species of southern vegetation, has a peculiar charm +for me, and yet something affecting and solemn too. +For what I last year saw in all the luxuriance and +exuberance of wild nature, and to which my eye had +become so accustomed, I find now cultivated by art, +and about to pass away from me for ever. There +are citron-hedges and orange-bushes; and sharp-pointed +aloes shoot up from the walls—it is just as +if, at the end of a piece, the beginning were to be +repeated; and this, as you know, I particularly like.</p> + +<p>In the steamboat was the first peasant girl I have +seen here in Swiss costume; the people speak a bad +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_217"> 217</a></span> +half-French Italian. This is my last letter from +Italy, but believe me the Italian lakes are not the +least interesting objects in this country; <em>anzi</em>,—I +never saw any more beautiful. People tried to persuade +me that the gigantic forms of the Swiss Alps +that have haunted me from my childhood<a name="FNanchor_17" id="FNanchor_17" href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> had been +exaggerated by my imagination, and that after all +a snowy mountain was not in reality so grand as I +thought. I almost dreaded being undeceived, but +at first sight of the foreground of the Alps from the +Lake of Como, veiled in clouds, with here and there +a surface of bright snow, sharp black points rearing +their heads, and sinking precipitously into the lake, +the hills first scattered over with trees and villages, +and covered with moss, and then bleak and desolate, +and on every side deep ravines filled with +snow,—I felt just as I formerly did, and saw that I +had exaggerated nothing.</p> + +<p>In the Alps all is more free, more sharply defined; +more uncivilized, if you will: yet I always feel there +both healthier and happier. I have just returned +from the gardens of the Palace, which I visited in +the midst of the rain. I wished to imitate Albano,<a name="FNanchor_18" id="FNanchor_18" href="#Footnote_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> +and sent for a barber to open a vein: he however +misunderstood my purpose, and shaved me instead,—a +very pardonable mistake. Gondolas are landing +on every part of the island, for to-day is the fête +following the great festival of yesterday, in honour +of which the P. P. Borromeo sent for singers and +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_218"> 218</a></span> +musicians from Milan, to sing and play to the +islanders. The gardener asked me if I knew what +a wind instrument was. I said with a clear conscience +that I did; and he replied that I ought to +try to imagine the effect of thirty such instruments, +and violins and basses, all played at once; but indeed +I could not possibly imagine it, for it must be heard +to be believed. The sounds (continued he) seemed +to come from Heaven, and all this was produced by +<em>philharmony</em>. What he meant by this term I know +not; but the music had evidently made more impression +on him, than the best orchestra often does on +musical connoisseurs. At this moment some one +has just begun to play the organ in the church for +Divine service, in the following strain:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/236.jpg" width="300" height="247" alt="music236" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/236.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_219"> 219</a></span> +Full organ in the bass, Bourdon 16, and reed stops, +have a very fine effect. The fellow has come all the +way from Milan, too, expressly to make this disturbance +in the church. I must go there for a little, +so farewell for a few moments. I intend to remain +here for the night, instead of crossing the lake +again, for I am so much pleased with this little +island. I certainly cannot say that I have slept +soundly for the last two nights; one night owing to +the innumerable claps of thunder, the next owing to +the innumerable fleas; and, in all probability, I have +to-night the prospect of both combined. But as the +following morning I shall be speaking French, and +have left Italy, and crossed the Simplon, I mean to +ramble about all this day and to-morrow in true +Italian fashion.</p> + +<p>I must now relate to you historically how I happened +to come here. At the very last moment of +my stay in Milan, the Ertmanns came to my room to +bid me farewell, and we took leave of each other +more cordially than I have done of any one for +many a long day. I promised to send you many +kind wishes from them, though they are unacquainted +with you, and I also agreed to write to them occasionally. +Another valued acquaintance I made +there, is Herr Mozart, who holds an office in Milan; +but he is a musician, heart and soul. He is said to +bear the strongest resemblance to his father, especially +in disposition; for the very same phrases +that affect the feelings in his father's letters, from +their candour and simplicity, constantly recur in the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_220"> 220</a></span> +conversation of the son, whom no one can fail to +love from the moment he is known. For instance, +I consider it a very charming trait in him, that he is +as jealous of the fame and name of his father, as if +he were an incipient young musician; and one evening, +at the Ertmanns', when a great many of +Beethoven's works had been played, the Baroness +asked me in a whisper to play something of Mozart's, +otherwise his son would be quite mortified; so when +I played the overture to "Don Juan," he began to +thaw, and begged me to play also the overture to +the "Flauto Magico" of his "<em>Vatter</em>," and seemed +to feel truly filial delight in hearing it: it is impossible +not to like him.</p> + +<p>He gave me letters to some friends near the Lake +of Como, which procured me for once a glimpse of +Italian provincial life, and I amused myself famously +there for a few days with the Doctor, the Apothecary, +the Judge, and other people of the locality. There +were very lively discussions on the subject of Sand, +and many expressed great admiration of him; this +appeared strange to me, as the occurrence is of such +distant date that no one any longer argues on the +subject. They also spoke of Shakspeare's plays, +which are now being translated into Italian. The +Doctor said that the tragedies were good, but that +there were some plays about witches that were too +stupid and childish: one, in particular, "Il Sonno +d' una Notte di Mezza State." In it the stale device +occurred of a piece being rehearsed in the play, +and it was full of anachronisms and childish ideas; +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_221"> 221</a></span> +on which they all chimed in that it was very silly +and advised me not to read it.<a name="FNanchor_19" id="FNanchor_19" href="#Footnote_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> I remained meekly +silent, and attempted no defence! I bathed frequently +in the Lake, and sketched, and yesterday +rowed on the Lake of Lugano, which frowned +sternly on us with its cascades and dark canopy of +clouds; then across the hills to Luvino, and to-day +I came here by steam.</p> + +<p><em>Evening.</em>—I have this moment returned from the +Isola Madre, and most splendid it is; spacious, and +full of terraces, citron-hedges, and evergreen shrubs. +The weather has at last become less inclement; thus +the large white house on the island, with its ruins +and terraces, looked very pretty. It is indeed a +unique land, and I only wish I could bring with me +to Berlin a portion of the same balmy air that I inhaled +when in the boat to-day. You have nothing +like it, and I would rather you enjoyed it, than all +the people who imbibe it here. A fiercely moustachioed +German was with me in the boat, who examined +all the beautiful scenery as if he were about +to purchase it and thought it too dear. Presently +I heard a trait quite in the style of Jean Paul. +When we were walking on the island, surrounded by +verdure, an Italian, who was of the party, observed +that this was a spot well adapted for lovers to ramble +in, and to enjoy the charms of nature. "Ah! +yes!" said I, in a languishing tone. "It was on +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_222"> 222</a></span> +this account," continued he, "that I separated from +my wife ten years ago; I established her at Venice +in a small tobacconist's shop, and now I live as I +please. You must one day do the same."</p> + +<p>The old boatman told us that he had rowed General +Bonaparte on this lake, and related various +anecdotes of him and Murat. He said Murat was +a most extraordinary man; all the time that he was +rowing him on the lake, he never ceased singing to +himself for a single moment, and once when setting +off on a journey he gave him his spirit-flask, and said +he would buy another for himself in Milan. I cannot +tell why these little traits, especially the singing, +seemed to realize the man in my mind more than +many a book of history.</p> + +<p>The "Walpurgis Nacht" is finished and revised, +and the overture will soon be equally far advanced. +The only person who has heard it as yet, is Mozart, +and he was so delighted with it that the well-known +composition caused me fresh pleasure; he insisted +on my publishing it immediately. Pray forgive this +letter, written in true student phraseology. You no +doubt perceive from its style that I have not worn a +neckcloth for a week past; but I wished you to +know how gay and happy I have been during the +days spent among the mountains, and with what +pleasure I look forward to those that yet await me.</p> + +<p class="right">Yours, <span class="smcap">Felix</span>.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_223"> 223</a></span></p> + +<h3>A l'Union-prieuré de Chamounix, end of July, 1831.</h3> + +<p>My dear Parents,</p> + +<p>I cannot refrain from writing to you from time to +time, to thank you for my wondrously beautiful +journey; and if I ever did so before, I must do so +again now, for more delightful days than those on +my journey hither, and during my stay here, I never +experienced. Fortunately you already know this +valley, so there is no occasion for me to describe it +to you; indeed, how could I possibly have done so? +But this I may say, that nowhere has nature in all +her glory met my eyes in such brightness as here, +both when I saw it with you for the first time and +now; and as every one who sees it, ought to thank +God for having given him faculties to comprehend, +and to appreciate such grandeur, so I must also +thank you for having supplied me with the means of +enjoying such a pleasure.</p> + +<p>I had been told that I exaggerated the forms of +the mountains in my imagination; but yesterday, at +the hour of sunset, I was pacing up and down in +front of the house, and each time that I turned my +back on the mountains, I endeavoured vividly to +represent to myself these gigantic masses, and each +time when I again faced them, they far exceeded my +previous conceptions. Like the morning that we +drove away from this when the sun was rising<a name="FNanchor_20" id="FNanchor_20" href="#Footnote_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> (no +doubt you remember it) the hills have been clear +and lovely ever since I arrived. The snow pure, +and sharply defined, and apparently near in the dark +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_224"> 224</a></span> +blue atmosphere; the glaciers thundering unremittingly, +as the ice is melting; when clouds gather, +they lie lightly on the base of the mountains, the +summits of which stand forth clear above. Would +that we could see them together! I have passed +this whole day here quietly, and entirely alone. I +wished to sketch the outlines of the mountains, so I +went out and found an admirable point of view, but +when I opened my book, the paper seemed so very +small that I hesitated about attempting it. I have +indeed succeeded in giving the outlines what is +called <em>correctly</em>,—but every stroke looks so formal, +when compared with the grace and freedom which +everywhere here pervade nature. And then the +splendour of colour! In short, this is the most +brilliant point of my travels; and the whole of my +excursion on foot, so solitary, independent, and +enjoyable, is something new to me, and a hitherto +unknown pleasure.</p> + +<p>I must however relate how I came here, otherwise +my letter at last will contain nothing but exclamations. +As I previously wrote to you, I had the most +odious weather on the Lago Maggiore, and the +Islands. It continued so incessantly stormy, cold, +and wet, that the same evening I took my place in +the diligence in rather a sulky humour, and we drove +on towards the Simplon. Scarcely had we been +journeying for half an hour, when the moon came +out, the clouds dispersed, and next morning the +weather was most bright and beautiful. I felt almost +ashamed of this undeserved good fortune, and I +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_225"> 225</a></span> +could now thoroughly enjoy the glorious scenery; +the road winding first through high green valleys, +then through rocky ravines and meadows, and at +last past glaciers and snowy mountains. I had with +me a little French book on the subject of the Simplon +road, which both pleased and affected me; for +the subject was Napoleon's correspondence with the +<em>Directoire</em> about the projected work, and the first +report of the General who crossed the mountain. +With what spirit and vigour these letters are +written! and yet a little swagger too, but with such +a glow of enthusiasm that it quite touched me, as I +was driven along this capital level road by an +Austrian postilion. I compared the fire and poetry +displayed in every description contained in these +letters (I mean those of the subaltern General) with +the eloquence of the present day, which leaves you +so terribly cold and is so odiously prosaic in all its +philanthropic views, and so lame—where there is +plenty of <em>fanfaronnade</em>, but no genuine youth—and +I could not but feel that a great epoch has passed +away for ever. I was unable to divest myself of the +idea that Napoleon never saw this work—one of his +favourite conceptions—for he never crossed the +Simplon when the road was finished, and was thus +deprived of this great gratification. High up, in +the Simplon village, all is bleak, and I actually +shivered from cold for the first time during the last +year and a half. A neat civil Frenchwoman keeps +the inn on the summit, and it would not be easy to +describe the sensation of satisfaction caused by its +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_226"> 226</a></span> +thrifty cleanliness, which is nowhere to be found in +Italy.</p> + +<p>We then descended into the Valais, as far as +Brieg, where I stayed all night, overjoyed to find +myself once more among honest, natural people, who +could speak German, and who plundered me into +the bargain in the most infamous manner. The +following day I drove through the Valais—an enchanting +journey: the road all along, like those you +have seen in Switzerland, ran between two lofty +ranges of mountains, their snowy peaks starting up +at intervals, and through avenues of green, leafy +walnut-trees, standing in front of pretty brown +houses,—below, the wild grey Rhone,—past Lenk, +and every quarter of an hour a village with a little +church. From Martigny I travelled for the first +time in my life literally on foot, and as I found the +guides too dear I went on quite alone, and started +with my cloak and knapsack on my shoulders. +About a couple of hours later I met a stout peasant +lad, who became my guide, and also carried my knapsack; +and so we went on past Forclas to Trient, a +little dairy village, where I breakfasted on milk and +honey, and thence to the Col de Balme.</p> + +<p>The whole valley of Chamouni, and Mont Blanc, +with all its precipitous glaciers, lay before me bathed +in sunshine. A party of gentlemen and ladies (one +of the latter very pretty and young) came from the +opposite side on mules, with a number of guides; +scarcely had we all assembled under one roof, when +subtle vapours began to rise, shrouding first the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_227"> 227</a></span> +mountain and then the valley, and at last thickly +covering every object, so that soon nothing was to +be seen. The ladies were afraid of going out into +the fog, just as if they were not already in the midst +of it; at last they set off, and from the window I +watched the singular spectacle of the caravan +leaving the house, all laughing, and talking loudly +in French and English and <em>patois</em>. The voices +presently became indistinct; then the figures likewise; +and last of all I saw the pretty girl in her wide +Scotch cloak; then only glimpses of grey shadows +at intervals, and they all disappeared. A few minutes +later I ran down the opposite side of the mountain +with my guide; we soon emerged once more into +sunshine, and entered the green valley of Chamouni +with its glaciers; and at length arrived here at the +Union. I have just returned from a ramble to +Montanvert, the Mer de Glace, and to the source of +the Arveiron. You know this splendid scenery, and +so you will forgive me, if, instead of going to Geneva +to-morrow, I first make the tour of Mont Blanc, that +I may become acquainted with this personage from +the southern side also, which is I hear the most +striking. Farewell, dear parents! May we have a +happy meeting!—Yours,</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> +<h3>Charney, August 6th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>My dear Sisters,</p> + +<p>You have, I know, read Ritter's "Afrika" from +beginning to end, but still I do not think you know +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_228"> 228</a></span> +where Charney is situated, so fetch out Keller's old +travelling map, that you may be able to accompany +me on my wanderings. Trace with your finger a +line from Vevay to Clarens, and thence to the Dent +de Jaman; this line represents a footpath; and where +your finger has been my legs also went this morning—for +it is now only half-past seven, and I am still +fasting. I mean to breakfast here, and am writing +to you in a neat wooden room, waiting till the milk +is made warm for me; without, I have a view of the +bright blue lake; and so I now begin my journal, and +mean to continue it as I best can during my pedestrian +tour.</p> + +<p><em>After breakfast.</em>—Heavens! here is a pretty business. +My landlady has just told me with a long +face, that there is not a creature in the village to +show me the way across the Dent, or to carry my +knapsack, except a young girl; the men being all at +work. I usually set off every morning very early +and quite alone, with my bundle on my shoulders, +because I find the guides from the inns both too +expensive and too tiresome; a couple of hours later +I hire the first honest-looking lad I see, and so I +travel famously on foot. I need not say how enchanting +the lake and the road hither were; you +must recall for yourself all the beauties you once +enjoyed there. The footpath is in continued shade, +under walnut-trees and up hill,—past villas and +castles,—along the lake which glitters through the +foliage; villages everywhere, and brooks and streams +rushing along from every nook, in every village; +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_229"> 229</a></span> +then the neat tidy houses,—it is all quite too charming, +and you feel so fresh and so free. Here comes +the girl with her steeple hat. I can tell you she is +vastly pretty into the bargain, and her name is +Pauline; she has just packed my things into her +wicker basket. Adieu!</p> + +<h3>Evening, Château d'Oex, candle-light.</h3> + +<p>I have had the most delightful journey. What +would I not give to procure you such a day! But +then you must first become two youths and be able to +climb actively, and drink milk when the opportunity +offered, and treat with contempt the intense heat, +the many rocks in the way, the innumerable holes in +the path, and the still larger holes in your boots, +and I fear you are rather too dainty for this; but it +was most lovely! I shall never forget my journey +with Pauline; she is one of the nicest girls I ever +met, so pretty and healthy-looking, and naturally +intelligent; she told me anecdotes about her village, +and I in return told her about Italy; but I know +who was the most amused.</p> + +<p>The previous Sunday, all the young people of <em>distinction</em> +in her village had gone to a place far across +the mountain, to dance there in the afternoon. They +set off shortly after midnight, arrived while it was +still dark, lighted a large fire and made coffee. Towards +morning the men had running and wrestling +matches before the ladies, (we passed a broken hedge +testifying to the truth of this;) then they danced, and +were at home again by Sunday evening, and early on +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_230"> 230</a></span> +Monday morning they all resumed their labours in +the vineyards. By Heavens, I felt a strong inclination +to become a Vaudois peasant, while I was listening +to Pauline, when from above she pointed out to +me the villages where they dance when the cherries +are ripe, and others where they dance when the cows +go to pasture in the meadows and give milk. To-morrow +they are to dance in St. Gingolph; they row +across the lake, and any one who can play, takes his +instrument with him; but Pauline is not to be of the +party, because her mother will not allow it, from +dread of the wide lake, and many other girls also +do not go for the same reason, as they all cling together.</p> + +<p>She then asked my leave to say good-day to a +cousin of hers, and ran down to a neat cottage in the +meadow; soon the two girls came out together and +sat on a bench and chattered; on the Col de Jaman +above, I saw her relations busily mowing, and herding +the cows.</p> + +<p>What cries and shouts ensued! Then those above +began to <em>jodel</em>, on which they all laughed. I did not +understand one syllable of their <em>patois</em>, except the +beginning, which was, Adieu Pierrot! All these +sounds were taken up by a merry mad echo, that +shouted and laughed and <em>jodelled</em> too. Towards +noon we arrived at Allière. When I had rested for +a time, I once more shouldered my knapsack, for a +fat old man provoked me by offering to carry it for +me; then Pauline and I shook hands, and we took +leave of each other. I descended into the meadows, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_231"> 231</a></span> +and if you do not care about Pauline, or if I have +bored you with her, it is not my fault, but that of the +mode in which I have described her; nothing could +be more pleasant in reality, and so was my further +journey. I came to a cherry-orchard, where the +people were gathering the fruit, so I lay down on the +grass and ate cherries for a time along with them. +I took my mid-day rest at Latine, in a clean wooden +house. The carpenter who built it gave me his company +to some roast lamb, and pointed out to me with +pride every table, and press, and chair.</p> + +<p>At length I arrived here, at night, through dazzling +green meadows, interspersed with houses, surrounded +by fir-trees and rivulets: the church here stands on a +velvet green eminence; more houses in the distance, +and still further away, huts and rocks; and in a +ravine, patches of snow still lying on the plain. It +is one of those idyllic spots such as we have seen +together in Wattwyl, but the village smaller and the +mountains more green and lofty. I must conclude +however to-day by a high eulogy on the Canton de +Vaud. Of all the countries I know this is the most +beautiful, and it is the spot where I should most like +to live when I become really old. The people are so +contented, and look so well, and the country also. +Coming from Italy it is quite touching to see the +honesty that still exists in the world,—happy faces, +a total absence of beggars, or saucy officials: in short, +there is the most complete contrast between the two +nations. I thank God for having created so much +that is beautiful; and may it be His gracious will to +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_232"> 232</a></span> +permit us all, whether in Berlin, England, or in the +Château d'Oex, to enjoy a happy evening and a +tranquil night!</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Boltigen, August 7th, evening.</h3> + +<p>The lightning and thunder are terrific outside, and +torrents of rain besides; in the mountains you first +learn respect for weather. I have not gone further, +for it would have been such a pity to traverse the +lovely Simmen valley under an umbrella. It was +grey morning, but delightfully cool for walking in +the forenoon. The valley at Saanen, and the whole +road, is incredibly fresh and gay. I am never weary +of looking at the verdure. I do believe that if +during a long life I were always gazing at undulating +verdant meadows, dotted over with reddish-brown +houses, I should always experience the same +pleasure in looking at them. The road winds the +whole way through meadows of this kind, and past +running streams.</p> + +<p>At noon I dined at Zweisimmen, in one of those +enormous Bernese houses, where everything glitters +with neatness and cleanliness, and where even the +smallest detail is carefully attended to. I there +dispatched my knapsack by the diligence to Interlaken, +and am now about to walk as a regular +pedestrian through the country; a shirt in my +pocket, a brush and comb, and my sketch-book, this +is all I require; but I am very tired. May the +weather be fine to-morrow!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_233"> 233</a></span></p> + +<h3>Wimmis, the 8th.</h3> + +<p>A pretty affair! the weather is three times as bad +as ever. I must give up my plan of going to Interlaken +to-day, as there is no possibility of getting +on. For the last few hours the water has been +pouring straight down, as if the clouds above had +been fairly squeezed out; the roads are as soft as +feather-beds; only occasional shreds of the mountains +are to be seen, and even these but rarely. I +almost thought sometimes that I was in the Margravate +of Brandenburg, and the Simmen valley looked +perfectly flat. I was obliged to button my waistcoat +tight over my sketch-book, for very soon my +umbrella was of no use whatever, and so I arrived +here to dinner about one o'clock. I had my breakfast +in the following place. [<em>Vide</em> page <a href="#Page_234">234</a>.]</p> + + +<h3>Weissenburg, August 8th.</h3> + +<p>I sketched this on the spot with a pen, so do not +laugh at the bold stream. I passed the night very +uncomfortably at Boltigen. There was no room in +the inn, owing to a fair, so I was obliged to lodge +in an adjacent house, where there were swarms of +vermin quite as bad as in Italy, a creaking house +clock, striking hoarsely every hour, and a baby that +screeched the whole night. I really could not help +for a time noticing the child's cries, for it screamed +in every possible key, expressive of every possible +emotion; first angry, then furious, then whining, and +when it could screech no longer, it grunted in a +deep bass. Let no one tell me that we must wish +to return to the days of our childhood, because children +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_234"> 234</a></span> +are so happy. I am convinced that such a +little mortal as this, flies into a rage just as we do, +and has also his sleepless nights, and his passions, +and so forth.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/252.jpg" width="500" height="609" alt="Weissenburg sketch" /> +</div> + +<p>This philosophical view occurred to me this morning, +while I was sketching Weissenburg, and so I +wished to communicate it to you on the spot; but I +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_235"> 235</a></span> +took up the 'Constitutionnel,' in which I read that +Casimir Périer wishes to resign, and many other +things that furnish matter for reflection; among +others a most remarkable article on the cholera, +which I should like to transcribe, for it is so extraordinary. +The existence of this disease is totally +and absolutely denied; only one person had it in +Dantzic,—a Jew,—and he got well. Then followed +a number of "Hegelisms" in French, and the election +of the deputies—oh world!—As soon as I had +finished reading the paper, I was obliged to set off +again in the rain through the meadows. No such +enchanting country as this is to be seen, even in a +dream; in the worst weather, the little churches, and +the numerous houses, and shrubs, and rills are still +truly lovely. The verdure to-day was quite in its +element. Dinner has been long over, and it is still +pouring. I intend to go no further than Spiez this +evening. I regret much that I can neither see this +place, which seems beautifully situated, nor Spiez, +which I know from Rösel's sketches. This is, in +fact, the climax of the whole Simmen valley, and +thence the old song says:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/253.jpg" width="300" height="126" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_236"> 236</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/254.jpg" width="300" height="68" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/253-4.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>I sang this the whole day while walking along. +The Siebethal, however, showed no gratitude for the +compliment, and the rain continued unremittingly.</p> + +<h3>Wyler, evening.</h3> + +<p>They could not take me in at Spiez, for there is +no inn there where you can lodge, so I was obliged +to return here. I very much admired the situation +of Spiez; it is built on a rock, which projects into +the lake, with numbers of turrets, and gables, and +peaks. There I saw a manor-house, with an orangery; +a sulky-looking nobleman with two sporting +dogs at his heels; a little church, and terraces with +bright flowers. It was all very lovely. To-morrow +I shall see it from the other side, if the weather permits. +To-day it has rained for three hours consecutively, +and I was well soaked on the way here. The +mountain streams are superb in such weather, for +they leap and rage furiously. I crossed one of these +demons, the Kander, which seemed to have taken +leave of its senses, leaping and blustering, and +foaming; the water looked quite brown, and scattered +its yellow spray in all directions. A black +peak of the mountains was here and there visible +through the rain-laden clouds, which hung deeper +into the valley than I ever before saw them. Yet +the day was most enjoyable.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_237"> 237</a></span></p> + +<h3>Wyler, the 9th, morning.</h3> + +<p>To-day the weather is worse than ever. It has +rained the whole night through, and this morning +too it is pouring. I have however intimated that +I shall not set out in such weather, and if it continues +I shall write to you again to-night from +Wyler. In the meantime I have an opportunity +of making acquaintance with my Swiss host. They +are very primitive. I could not get on my shoes, +because they had shrunk, owing to the rain. The +landlady asked if I wished to have a shoe-horn; and +as I said I did, she brought me a tablespoon; but +it answered the purpose. And moreover they are +eager politicians. Over my bed hangs a horrible +distorted face, under which is written. "Brinz +Baniadofsgi." If he had not a kind of Polish costume, +it would be difficult to discover whether it is +intended for a man or a woman, for neither the portrait +itself nor the inscription throw much light on +the subject.</p> + +<h3>Evening, at Untersee.</h3> + +<p>All jesting is turned into sad earnest, which in +these days may easily be the case. The storm has +raged furiously, and caused great damage and +devastation; the people here say that they remember +no more violent storm and rain for many years; +and the hurricane rushes on with such incredible +rapidity. This morning early the weather was +merely wet and disagreeable, and yet this afternoon +all the bridges are swept away, and every passage +blocked up for the moment. There has been a +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_238"> 238</a></span> +landslip at the Lake of Brienz, and everything is in +an uproar.</p> + +<p>I have just heard here that war has been proclaimed +in Europe; so the world certainly bears a +wild, bleak aspect at this time, and I ought to feel +thankful, that at all events for the present I have a +warm room here, and a comfortable roof over my +head. The rain ceased for a time early this morning, +and I thought that the clouds were fairly +exhausted; so I left Wyler, but soon found that +the roads were sadly cut up; but worse was to +come; the rain began again gently, but came down +so violently about nine o'clock, and in such sudden +squalls, that it was evident something strange was +brewing. I crept into a half built hut, where a +great mass of fodder was lying, and nestled comfortably +among the fragrant hay. A soldier of the +Canton, who was on his way to Thun, also crept in +from the other side, and in the course of an hour, as +the weather did not improve, we went on our different +paths.</p> + +<p>I was obliged to take shelter again under a roof +at Leisengen, and waited there a long time; but as +my luggage was at Interlaken, a distance of only +two hours from thence, I thought that I would set +the weather at defiance; so about one o'clock I set +out for Interlaken. There was literally nothing to +be seen but the grey surface of the lake,—no mountains, +and seldom even the outlines of the opposite +shore. The little springs, which as you may remember +often run along by the footpaths, had swollen into +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_239"> 239</a></span> +streams, through which I was obliged to wade; and +where the road was hilly, the waters accumulated +in the hollows and formed a pool, so I was forced to +jump over dripping hedges, into marshy meadows; +the small blocks of wood—by means of which +brooks are crossed here—lay deep under the water; at +one moment I found myself between two of these +brooks, which had run into each other, and for a +considerable time I was obliged to walk against the +current, above my ankles in water. All the streams +are black, or chocolate-brown, looking like earth +flowing along. Torrents poured down from above; +the wind shook down the water from the dripping +walnut-trees; the waterfalls which tumble into the +lake thundered frightfully from both shores. You +could trace the course of the brown muddy streaks, +rushing along through the pure waters of the lake, +which, in the midst of all this uproar, remained perfectly +tranquil, its surface scarcely ruffled, quietly +receiving all the blustering streams that poured +into its bosom.</p> + +<p>A man now came up, who had taken off his shoes +and stockings, and turned up his trowsers. This +made me feel rather nervous. Presently I met two +women, who said that I could not go through the +village, for all the bridges were gone. I asked how +far it was to Interlaken. "A good hour," they said. +I could not make up my mind to turn back, so I went +on towards the village, where the people shouted to +me from the windows, that I could come no further, +because the waters were rushing down so impetuously +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_240"> 240</a></span> +from the mountains; and certainly there was a fine +commotion in the middle of the village. The muddy +stream had swept everything along with it, eddying +round the houses, and running along the meadows +and footpaths, and finally thundering down into the +lake. Luckily there was a little boat there, in which +I was ferried across to Neuhaus, though this expedition +in an open boat, in torrents of rain, was far from +pleasant. My condition, when I arrived at Neuhaus, +was miserable enough; I looked as if I wore +long black boots over my light-coloured trowsers, +my shoes and stockings quite up to my knees, dark +brown; then came the original white, then a soaked +blue paletôt; even my sketch-book, that I had buttoned +under my waistcoat, was wet through.</p> + +<p>I arrived in this plight at Interlaken, where I +was very ill received, for the people there either +could not or would not find room for me, and so I +was forced to return to Untersee, where I am +famously lodged, and most comfortable. Singularly +enough, I had been all along anticipating with such +pleasure revisiting the inn at Interlaken, of which +I had so many reminiscences, and I drove up in my +little Neuhaus carriage to the Nuss-Baum Platz, +and saw the well-known glass gallery; the pretty +landlady, too, came to the door, but somewhat aged +and altered. Neither the dreadful storms, nor the +various discomforts I had endured, annoyed me half +so much as not being able to remain at Interlaken, +consequently for the first time since I left Vevay I +was out of humour for half an hour, and obliged to +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_241"> 241</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/259.jpg" width="300" height="58" alt="music259a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/259a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>sing Beethoven's adagio in A flat major, three or +four times over, before I could recover my equanimity. +I learned here, for the first time, the damage +the storm had already done, and may yet do, for the +rain is still incessant.</p> + +<p><em>Half-past Nine o'clock at Night.</em>—The bridge at +Zweilütschenen is carried away; the <em>vetturini</em> from +Brienz, and Grindelwald, will not encounter the risk +of driving home, from the fear of some rock falling +on their heads. The water here has risen to within +a foot and a half of the Aar bridge; the gloom of +the sky I cannot describe. I mean to wait here patiently; +besides, I do not require the aid of localities, +to enable me to summon up my reminiscences. They +have given me a room where there is a piano; it +indeed bears the date of the year 1794, and somewhat +resembles in tone the little old "Silbermann" +in my room at home, so I took a fancy to it at the +very first chord I struck, and it also recalls you to +my mind. This piano has outlived many things, and +probably never dreamt that I was likely to compose +by its aid, as I was not born till 1809, now fully +two-and-twenty years ago; in the meantime, the +piano, though seven-and-thirty years old, has plenty +of good material in it yet.</p> + +<p>I have some new "Lieder" in hand, dear sisters. +You have not seen my favourite one in E major +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_242"> 242</a></span> +"Auf der Reise,"—it is very sentimental. I am now +composing one which will not, I fear, be very good; +but it will, at all events, please us three, for it is at +least well intended. The words are Goethe's, but I +don't say what they are; it is very daring in me to +compose for this poetry, and the words are by no +means suitable for music, but I thought them so +divinely beautiful, that I could not resist singing +them to myself. Enough for to-day; so good night, +dear ones.</p> + +<h3>August 10th.</h3> + +<p>The weather this morning is clear and bright, and +the storm has passed away; would that all storms +ended as quickly, and were as soon allayed! I have +passed a glorious day, sketching, composing, and +inhaling fresh air. In the afternoon I went on horseback +to Interlaken, for no man can go there on foot +at this moment. The whole road is flooded, so that +even on horseback I got very wet. In this place, +too, every street is inundated and impassable. How +beautiful Interlaken is! How humble and insignificant +we feel when we see how splendid the good +Lord has made this world; and nowhere can you see +it in greater magnificence than here. I sketched for +my father one of the walnut-trees he so much admires, +and for the same reason I mean to send him a +faithful drawing of one of the Bernese houses. Various +parties of ladies and gentlemen, and children, +drove past and stared at me; I thought to myself +that they were now enjoying the same luxury I +formerly did, and would fain have called out to them +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_243"> 243</a></span> +not to forget this! Towards evening, the snowy +mountains were glowing in the clearest outlines and +in the loveliest hues.</p> + +<p>When I came back. I asked for some music paper, +and they referred me to their Pastor, and he to the +Forest-ranger, whose daughter gave me two pretty +neat sheets. The "Lied" which I alluded to yesterday +is now finished; I cannot help after all telling you +what it is—but you must not laugh at me—it is actually,—but +don't think I am seized with hydrophobia—a +sonnet, "Die Liebende schreibt."<a name="FNanchor_21" id="FNanchor_21" href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> I am afraid +its merit is not great; I think it was more inwardly +felt than outwardly well expressed; still there are +some good passages in it, and to-morrow I am going +to set to music a little poem of Uhland's; a couple +of pieces for the piano are also in progress. I can +unfortunately form no judgment of my new compositions; +I cannot tell whether they are good or bad; +and this arises from the circumstance that all the +people to whom I have played anything for the last +twelve months, forthwith glibly declared it to be +wonderfully beautiful, and that will never do. I +really wish that some one would let me have a little +rational blame once more, or what would be still +more agreeable, a little <em>rational</em> praise, and then I +should find it less indispensable to act the censor +towards myself, and to be so distrustful of my own +powers. Nevertheless, I must go on writing in the +meantime.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_244"> 244</a></span> +When I was at the Forest-ranger's, I heard that +the whole country was devastated, and the most sad +intelligence comes from all sides. All the bridges in +the Hasli valley are entirely swept away, and also +many houses and cottages. A man came here to-day +from Lauterbrunnen, and he was up to his shoulders +in water; the high road is ruined, and what sounded +most dismal of all to me, a quantity of furniture and +household things were seen floating down the Kander, +coming no one knows whence. Happily the +waters are beginning to subside, but the damage they +have done cannot so easily be repaired. My travelling +plans have also been considerably disturbed by +these inundations, for, if there be any risk, I shall +certainly not go into the mountains.</p> + +<h3>The 11th.</h3> + +<p>So I now close the first part of my journal, and +send it off to you. To-morrow I shall begin a new +one, for I intend then to go to Lauterbrunnen. The +road is practicable for pedestrians, and not an idea +of any danger; travellers from thence have come +here to-day, but for carriages, the road will not be +passable during the remainder of the year. I purpose, +therefore, proceeding across the Lesser Scheideck +to Grindelwald, and by the Great Scheideck +to Meiringen; by Furka and Grimsel to Altorf, and +so on to Lucerne; storms, rain, and everything else +permitting,—which means, if God will. This morning +early, I was on the Harder, and saw the mountains +in the utmost splendour. I never remember +the Jungfrau so clear and so glowing as both yesterday +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_245"> 245</a></span> +evening and at early dawn to-day. I rode back +to Interlaken, where I finished my sketch of the +walnut-tree. After that I composed for a time, and +wrote three waltzes for the Forest-ranger's daughter +on the remaining music-paper she had given me, +politely presenting them to her myself. I have just +returned from a watery expedition to an inundated +reading-room, as I wished to see how the Poles are +getting on—unluckily there is no reference to them +in the papers. I must now occupy myself till the +evening in packing, but I am most reluctant to leave +this room, where I am so comfortable, and shall +sadly miss my little piano. I intend to sketch the +view from this window with my pen on the back of +my letter, and also to write out my second "Lied," +and then Untersee will soon also belong to my +reminiscences. "Ach! wie schnell!" I quote +myself, which is not over-modest, but these lines +recur to me but too often when the days are shortening, +the leaves of the travelling map turned over, +and first Weimar, then Munich, and lastly Vienna, +are all things of the past year. Well! here you +have my window! [<em>Vide</em> page <a href="#Page_246">246</a>.]</p> + +<p><em>An hour later.</em>—My plans are altered, and I stay +here till the day after to-morrow. The people say that +by that time the roads will be considerably better, and +there is plenty here both to see and to sketch. The +Aar has not risen to such a height for seventy years. +To-day people were stationed on the bridge, with +poles and hooks, watching to catch any fragments +of the broken-down bridges. It did look so strange +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_246"> 246</a></span> +to see a black object come swimming along in the +distance from the hills, which was at last recognized +to be a piece of balustrade, or a cross-beam, or +something of the sort, when all the people made a +rush at it, and tried to fish it up with their hooks, +and at length succeeded in dragging the monster +out of the water. But enough of water,—that is, +of my journal. It is now evening, and dark. I am +writing by candle-light, and should he so glad if I +could knock at your door, and take my seat beside +you at the round table. It is the old story over +again. Wherever it is bright and cheerful, and I +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_247"> 247</a></span> +am well and happy, I most keenly feel your absence, +and most long to be with you again. Who knows, +however, whether we may not come here together in +future years, and then think of this day, as we now +do of former ones? But as none can tell whether +this may ever come to pass, I shall meditate no +longer on the subject, but write out my "Lied," +take another peep of the mountains, wish you all +happiness and good fortune, and thus close my +journal.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/264.jpg" width="500" height="477" alt="lauterbrunnen sketch" /> +</div> + +<h3>Lauterbrunnen, August 13th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>I have just returned from an expedition on foot +to the Schmadri Bach, and the Breithorn. All that +you can by possibility conceive as to the grandeur +and imposing forms of the mountains here, must fall +far short of the reality of nature. That Goethe could +write nothing in Switzerland but a few weak poems, +and still weaker letters, is to me as incomprehensible +as many other things in this world. The road +here is again in a lamentable state; where, six days +ago, there was the most beautiful highway, there is +now only a desolate mass of rocks; numbers of +huge blocks lying about, and heaps of rubbish and +sand. No trace whatever of human hands to be +seen. The waters, indeed, have entirely subsided, +but they are still in a troubled state, for from time +to time you can hear the stones tossed about, and +the waterfalls also in the midst of their white foam, +roll down black stones into the valley.</p> + +<p>My guide pointed out to me a pretty new house, +standing in the midst of a wild turbulent stream; +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_248"> 248</a></span> +he said that it belonged to his brother-in-law and +formerly stood in a beautiful meadow, which had +been very profitable; the man was obliged to leave +the house during the night; the meadow has disappeared +for ever, and masses of pebbles and stones +have usurped its place. "He never was rich, but +now he is poor," said he, in concluding his sad story. +The strangest thing is, that in the very centre of +this frightful devastation,—the Lütschine having +overflowed the whole extent of the valley—among +the marshy meadows, and masses of rocks, where +there is no longer even a trace of a road, stands a +<em>char-à-banc</em>—and is likely to stand for some time +to come. It chanced that the people in it wished +to drive through at the very time of the hurricane; +then came the inundation, so they were forced to +leave the carriage and everything else to fate, thus +the <em>char-à-banc</em> is still standing waiting there. It +was a very frightful sight when we reached the spot, +where the whole valley, with its roads and embankments, +is a perfect rocky sea; and my guide, who +went first, kept whispering to himself, "'sisch +furchtbar!" The torrent had carried into the middle +of the stream some large trunks of trees, which +are standing aloft; for at the same moment some +huge fragments of rocks having been flung against +them, the bare trees were closely wedged in betwixt +them, and they now stand nearly perpendicular in +the bed of the river.</p> + +<p>I should never come to an end were I to try to +tell you all the various forms of havoc which I saw +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_249"> 249</a></span> +between this place and Untersee. Still the beauty +of the valley made a stronger impression on me +than I can describe. It is much to be regretted, +that when you were in this country, you went +no further than Staubbach; for it is from there +that the valley of Lauterbrunnen really begins. +The Schwarzer Mönch, and all the other snowy +mountains in the background, become more mighty +and grand, and on every side bright foaming cascades +tumble into the valley. You gradually approach +the mountains covered with snow, and the +glaciers in the background, through pine woods, +and oaks, and maple-trees. The moist meadows, +too, were covered with a profusion of brilliant +flowers—snakewort, the wild scabious, campanulas, +and many others. The Lütschine had accumulated +masses of stones at the sides, having swept along +fragments of rocks, as my guide said, "bigger than +a stove," then the carved brown wooden houses, and +the hedges; it is all beautiful beyond measure! +Unfortunately we could not get to the Schmadri +Bach, as bridges, paths, and fords, were all gone; +but it was a walk I can never forget.</p> + +<p>I also tried to sketch the Mönch; but what can +you hope to do with a small pencil? Hegel indeed +says, "that every single human thought is more +sublime than the whole of Nature;" but in this place +I consider that too presumptuous; the axiom sounds +indeed very fine, but is a confounded paradox nevertheless. +I am quite contented, in the meantime, to +adhere to Nature, which is the safest of the two. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_250"> 250</a></span> +You know the situation of the inn here, and if you +cannot recall it, refer to my former Swiss drawing +book, where you will find it sketched, badly enough, +and where I put in a footpath in front, from imagination, +which made me laugh heartily to-day, when I +thought of it. I am at this moment looking out of +the same window, and gazing at the dark mountains, +for it is late in the evening, that is, a quarter to +eight o'clock, and I have an idea, which is "more +sublime than the whole of Nature"—I mean to go +to bed; so good night, dear ones.</p> + +<h3>The 14th, ten o'clock in the forenoon.</h3> + +<p>From the dairy hut on the Wengern Alp, in +heavenly weather, I send you my greetings.</p> + +<h3>Grindelwald, evening.</h3> + +<p>I could not write more to you early this morning; +I was most reluctant to leave the Jungfrau. What +a day this has been for me! Ever since we were +here together I have wished to see the Lesser +Scheideck once more. So I woke early to-day, with +some misgivings, for so much might intervene—bad +weather, clouds, rain, fogs—but none of these +occurred. It was a day as if made on purpose for +me to cross the Wengern Alp. The sky was flecked +with white clouds, floating far above the highest +snowy peaks; no mists below on any of the mountains, +and all their pinnacles glittering brightly in +the morning air; every undulation, and the face of +every hill, clear and distinct. Why should I even +attempt to portray it? You have already seen the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_251"> 251</a></span> +Wengern Alp, but at that time we had bad weather, +whereas to-day the whole mountain range was in +holiday attire. Nothing was wanting; from thundering +avalanches, to its being Sunday, and people +dressed in their best going to church, just as it was +then.</p> + +<p>The hills had only dwelt in my memory as gigantic +peaks, for their great altitude had entirely absorbed +me. To-day I was struck with amazement at the +immense extent of their base, their solid, spacious +masses, and the connection of all these huge piles, +which seem to lean towards each other, and to reach +out their hands to one another. In addition to this +you must imagine every glacier, and snowy plateau, +and point of rock, dazzlingly lighted up and glittering. +Then the far summits of distant mountain +ranges stretching hither, as if surveying the others. +I do believe that such are the thoughts of the +Almighty. Those who do not yet know Him, may +here see Him, and the nature He created, visibly +displayed. Then the fresh, bracing air, which refreshes +you when weary, and cools you when it is +warm,—and so many springs! I must at some future +time write you a separate treatise on springs, but +I have not time for it to-day, as I have something +particular to tell you.</p> + +<p>Now you will say, I suppose, he came down the +mountain again, and is going to inform us once more +how beautiful Switzerland is. Not at all. When I +arrived at the herdsman's hut, I was told that in a +meadow far up the Alps, there was to be a great fête +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_252"> 252</a></span> +this very day, and I saw people at intervals climbing +the mountain. I was not at all fatigued; an Alpine +fête is not to be seen every day; the weather said, +<em>yes</em>; the guide was willing. "Let us go to Intramen," +said I. The old herdsman went first, so we +were obliged to climb very vigorously; for Intramen +is more than a thousand feet higher than the +Lesser Scheideck. The herdsman was a ruthless +fellow, for he ran on before us like a cat; he soon +took pity on my guide, and relieved him of my cloak +and knapsack, but even with them he continued to +push forward so eagerly that we really could not +keep up with him. The path was frightfully steep; +he extolled it, however, saying that there was a much +nearer, but much steeper track: he was about sixty +years of age, and when my youthful guide and I +with difficulty surmounted a hill, we invariably saw +him descending the next one. We walked on for +two hours in the most fatiguing path I ever encountered; +first a steep ascent, then down again into a +hollow, over heaps of crumbling stones, and brooks +and ditches, across two meadows covered with snow, +in the most profound solitude, without a footpath, +or the most remote trace of the hand of man; occasionally +we could still hear the avalanches from the +Jungfrau; otherwise all was still, and not a tree to +be seen.</p> + +<p>When this silence and solitude had continued for +some time, and we had clambered to the top of a +grassy acclivity, we suddenly came in sight of a vast +number of people standing in a circle, laughing, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_253"> 253</a></span> +speaking, and shouting. They were all in gay +dresses, and had flowers in their hats; there were +a great many girls, some tables with casks of wine, +and all around deep solemn silence, and tremendous +mountains. It was singular that while I was in the +act of climbing, I thought of nothing but rocks and +stones, and the snow and the track; but the moment +I saw human beings, all the rest was forgotten, and +I only thought of men, and their sports, and the +merry fête. It was really a fine sight. The scene +was in a spacious green meadow far above the +clouds; opposite were the snowy mountains in all +their prodigious altitude, more especially the dome +of the great Eiger, the Schreckhorn, and the Wetterhörner, +and all the others as far as the Blümli's Alp; +the Lauterbrunnen valley lay far beneath us in the +misty depths, quite small, as well as our road of +yesterday, with all the little cataracts like threads, +the houses like dots, and the trees like grass. Far +in the background the Lake of Thun occasionally +glanced out of the mist.</p> + +<p>The crowd now began wrestling, and singing, and +drinking, and laughing; all healthy, strong men. I +was much amused by the wrestling, which I had +never before seen. The girls served the men with +<em>Kirschwasser</em> and <em>Schnapps</em>; the flasks passed from +hand to hand, and I drank with them, and gave three +little children some cakes, which made them quite +happy; a very tipsy old peasant sang me some +songs; then they all sang; then the guide favoured +us with a modern song; and then little boys fought. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_254"> 254</a></span> +<em>Everything</em> pleased me on the Alps, and I remained +lying there till towards evening, and made myself +quite at home. We descended rapidly into the meadows +below, and soon descried the familiar inn, and +its windows glittering in the evening sun; a fresh +breeze from the glaciers began to blow; this soon +cooled us. It is now getting late, and from time to +time avalanches are heard,—so thus has my Sunday +been spent.—A fête-day indeed!</p> + +<h3>On the Faulhorn, August 15th.</h3> + +<p>I am shivering with cold! Outside thick snow is +falling, and the wind raging and blustering. We +are eight thousand feet above the level of the sea, +and a long tract of snow to traverse, but here I am! +Nothing can be seen; all day the weather has been +dreadful. When I remember how fine it was yesterday, +while I earnestly wish that it may be as fine to-morrow, +it reminds me of life, for we are always +hovering between the past and the future. Our +excursion of yesterday seems as far past and remote, +as if I knew it only from old memories, and had +scarcely been present myself; for to-day when during +five mortal hours we were struggling on, against +rain and fog, sticking in the mud, and seeing nothing +round us but grey vapours, I could scarcely realize +that it ever was or ever will be again fine weather, +or that I ever lay idly stretched on this wet marshy +grass. Besides, everything here wears such a wintry +aspect; heated stoves, thick snow, cloaks, freezing, +shivering people. I am at this moment in the highest +inn in Europe; and just as in St. Peter's, you +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_255"> 255</a></span> +look down on every church, and on the Simplon, +upon every road, so from hence I look down on all +other inns; but not <em>morally</em>, for this is little more +than a few wooden planks. Never mind. I am +now going to bed, and I will no longer watch my +own breath. Good night! "Tom's a cold."</p> + +<h3>Hospital, August 18th.</h3> + +<p>I have not been able to open my journal for two +or three days, as when night came I had no longer +time for anything, but to dry myself and my clothes +at the fire, to warm myself, to sigh over the weather, +like the stove behind which I took refuge, and to +sleep a good deal; besides, I did not wish to try your +patience, by my everlasting repetitions of how deep +I had sunk in the mud, and how incessantly it rained, +and so forth. During the last few days in reality I +went through the most beautiful country, and yet +saw nothing but thick fogs, and water in the sky, +and from the sky, and on the earth. I passed places +that I had long wished to visit, without being able +to enjoy them; what also damped my writing mood, +was being obliged to battle with the weather, and if +it continues the same, I shall only write occasionally, +for really I should have nothing to say, but "a grey +sky—rain and fog." I have been on the Faulhorn, +the Great Scheideck, on Grimsel Spital, and to-day +I crossed Grimsel and Furka, and the principal objects +I have seen were the points of my shabby umbrella, +and I had not even a glimpse of the huge +mountains. At one moment, to-day, the Finsteraarhorn +came to light, but it looked as savage as if it +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_256"> 256</a></span> +wished to devour us; and yet if we were a single +half-hour without rain, it was truly beautiful. A +journey on foot through this country, even in the +most unfavourable weather, is the most enchanting +thing you can possibly imagine; if the sky were +bright, I think the excess of pleasure would be quite +overpowering; I must not therefore complain too +much of the weather, for I have had my full share +of enjoyment.</p> + +<p>During the last few days I felt like Tantalus. +When I was on the Scheideck, a glimpse of the +lower part of the Wetterhorn was sometimes visible +through the clouds, and it seemed beyond measure +magnificent and sublime; but I only saw the base. +On the Faulhorn, I could not distinguish objects +fifty paces off, although I stayed there till ten +o'clock in the morning. We went down to the +Scheideck in a heavy snow-storm, by a very wet and +difficult path, which the incessant rain had made +worse than usual. We arrived at Grimsel Spital in +rain and storm. To-day I wished to have ascended +the Sidelhorn, but was obliged to give it up on account +of the fog. The Mayenwand was shrouded in +grey clouds, and we had only a single peep of the +Finsteraarhorn, when we were on the Furka. We +also arrived here in a torrent of rain and water +everywhere, but all this does not signify. My guide +is a capital fellow: if it rains, he sings and <em>jodels</em>; +if it is fine, so much the better; and though I failed +in seeing some of the finest objects, still I saw a +great deal that was interesting.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_257"> 257</a></span> +On this occasion I have formed a particular +friendship for the glaciers; they are indeed, the +most marvellous monsters in the world. How +strangely they are all tumbled about; here, a row +of jagged points, there, toppling crags, and above, +towers and bastions, while on every side, crevices +and ravines are visible, all of the most wondrous +pure ice, that rejects all soil of earth, casting up +again on the surface the stones, sand, and gravel, +flung down by the mountains. Then the superb +colouring, when the sun shines on them, and their +mysterious advance—they sometimes move on a foot +and a half in a single day, so that the people in the +village are in the greatest anxiety and alarm, when +the glacier arrives so quietly, and yet with such +irresistible force, for it shivers rocks and stones +when they lie in the way—then the ominous crashing +and thundering, and the rushing of so many springs +near and round. They are splendid miracles. I +was in the Rosenlaui glacier, which forms a kind of +cave, that you can creep through; it looks as if +built of emeralds, only more transparent. Above, +around, on all sides, you can see rivulets running +between the clear ice. In the centre of this narrow +passage, the ice has left a large round window, +through which you look down on the valley, and +issue forth again under an arch of ice, and high +above, black peaks rear their heads, from which +masses of ice roll down in the boldest undulations. +The glacier of the Rhone is the most imposing that +I have seen, and the sun burst forth on it as we +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_258"> 258</a></span> +passed early this morning. This is a suggestive +sight, and you get a casual glimpse of the rocky +peak of a mountain, a plateau covered with snow, +cataracts, and bridges spanning them, and masses of +crumbling stones and rocks; in short, even if you +see little in Switzerland, it is at all events more +than is to be seen in any other country.</p> + +<p>I have been drawing very busily, and think I have +made some progress. I even tried to sketch the +Jungfrau; it will at least serve as a reminiscence, +and I can enjoy the thought that these strokes were +actually made on the spot itself. I see people rushing +through Switzerland, and declaring that they +find nothing to admire there, or anywhere else +(except themselves); not the least affected nor +roused, remaining cold and prosaic, even in presence +of the mountains; when I meet such people +I should like to give them a good drubbing. +Two Englishmen and an English lady are at this +moment sitting beside me near the stove; they are +as wooden as sticks. We have been travelling the +same road for a couple of days, and I declare the +people have never uttered a syllable except of abuse, +that there were no fireplaces either on the Grimsel, +or here; but that there are <em>mountains</em> here, is a fact +to which they never allude; their whole journey is +occupied in scolding their guide, who laughs at +them, in quarrelling with the innkeepers, and in +yawning in each others' faces. They think everything +commonplace, because they are themselves +commonplace, therefore they are not happier in +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_259"> 259</a></span> +Switzerland than they would be in Bernau. I maintain +that happiness is relative; another would thank +God that he could see all this, and so I will be that +other!</p> + +<h3>Fluelen, August 19th.</h3> + +<p>A day made for a journey; fine, and enjoyable, +and bracing. When we wished to start this morning +at six o'clock, there was such a storm of sleet and +snow that we were obliged to wait till nine o'clock, +when the sun came forth, the clouds dispersed, and +we had delightful bright weather as far as this place; +but now sombre clouds, heavy with rain, have collected +over the lake, so that no doubt to-morrow the +old troubles will break loose again. But how glorious +this day has been, so clear and sunny—we had the +most charming journey! You know the St. Gothard +Road in all its beauty; you lose much by coming +down from above, instead of ascending from this +point, for the grand surprise of the Urner Loch is +entirely lost, and the new road which has been made, +with all the grandeur, as well as convenience, of the +Simplon, impairs the effect of the Devil's Bridge: +inasmuch as close beside it a new arch, much bolder +and larger, has been constructed, which makes the +old bridge look quite insignificant, but the ancient +crumbling walls look much more romantic and picturesque. +Though the view of Andermatt is thus lost, +and the new Devil's Bridge far from being poetical, +still you go merrily downhill all day, on a delightfully +smooth road, flying rapidly past the various +localities, and instead of being sprinkled by the foam +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_260"> 260</a></span> +of the waterfall on the old bridge as formerly, and +endangered by the wind, you now pass along far +above the stream, between two ranges of solid +parapets.</p> + +<p>We came past Göschenen and Wasen and presently +appeared the huge firs and beech-trees close to Amsteg; +then the charming valley of Altorf, with its +cottages, meadows, and woods, its rocks and snowy +mountains. We rested at Altorf in a Capuchin +Convent, situated on a height; and finally, here I +am on the banks of the Vierwaldstadt Lake. To-morrow +I purpose crossing the lake to Lucerne, +where I hope to find letters from you. I shall then +also get rid of a party of young people from Berlin, +who have been pursuing almost the same route with +me, meeting me at every turn, and boring me terribly; +the patriotism of a lieutenant, a dyer, and a +young carpenter,—all three bent on destroying +France,—was peculiarly distasteful to me.</p> + +<h3>Sarnen, the 20th.</h3> + +<p>I crossed the Vierwaldstadt Lake early this morning, +in a continued pour of rain, and found your +welcome letter of the 5th in Lucerne. As it contained +nothing but good tidings, I immediately +arranged a tour of three days to Unterwalden and +the Brünig. I intend to call again at Lucerne for +your next letter, and then I am off to the West, and +out of Switzerland. I shall take leave of it with +deep regret. The country is beautiful beyond all +conception; and though the weather is again odious,—rain +and storms the whole day, and all through +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_261"> 261</a></span> +the night,—yet the Tellen Platte, the Grütli, Brunnen +and Schwytz, and the dazzling green of the +meadows this evening in Unterwalden, are too lovely +ever to be forgotten. The hue of this green is most +unique, refreshing the eye and the whole being. I +shall certainly attend to your kind precautionary +injunctions, dear Mother, but you need be under +no apprehensions about me. I am by no means +careless with regard to my health, and have not, for +a long time, felt so well as during my pedestrian +excursions in Switzerland. If eating, and drinking, +and sleeping, and music in one's head, can make a +man healthy, then, God be praised, I may well call +myself so; for my guide and I vie with each other +in eating and drinking, and not less so unluckily in +singing. In sleeping alone I surpass him; and +though I sometimes disturb him by my trumpet or +oboe tones, he in turn cuts short my morning sleep. +Please God, therefore, we shall have a happy meeting. +Before that time arrives, however, many a page +of my journal must yet travel to you; but even this +interval will quickly pass, just as everything quickly +passes, except indeed what is best of all!—so let us +be true and loving to each other.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Engelberg, August 23rd, 1831.</h3> + +<p>My heart is so full that I must tell you about it. +In this enchanting valley I have just taken up +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_262"> 262</a></span> +Schiller's "Wilhelm Tell," and read half of the first +scene; there is surely no genius like that of Germany! +Heaven knows why it is so, but I do think +that no other nation could fully comprehend such an +opening scene, far less be able to compose it. This +is what I call a poem, and a beginning; first the +pure, clear verse, in which the lake, smooth as a +mirror, and all else, is so vividly described, and then +the slow commonplace Swiss talk, and Baumgarten +coming in,—it is quite glorious! How fresh, how +powerful, how exciting! We have no such work as +this in music, and yet even that sphere ought one +day to produce something equally perfect. It is so +admirable in him too, to have created an entire +Switzerland for himself, inasmuch as he never saw +it, and yet all is so faithful and so strikingly truthful; +the people and life, the scenery and nature. I +was delighted when the old innkeeper here, in a +solitary mountain village, brought me from the +monastery the book with the well-known characters +and old familiar names; but the opening again quite +surpassed all my expectations. It is now more +than four years since I read it. I mean presently to +go over to the monastery, to work off my excitement +on the organ.</p> + +<h3>Afternoon.</h3> + +<p>Do not be astonished at my enthusiasm, but read +the scene through again yourself, and then you will +find my excitement quite natural. Such passages +as those where all the shepherds and hunters shout +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_263"> 263</a></span> +"Save him! save him!" in the close at the Grütli, +when the sun is about to rise, could indeed only +have occurred to a German, and above all to +Schiller; and the whole piece is crowded with +similar passages. Let me refer to that particular +one at the end of the second scene, where Tell comes +with the rescued Baumgarten to Stauffacher, and +the agitating conference closes in such tranquillity +and peace: this, along with the beauty of the +thought, is so thoroughly Swiss. Then the beginning +of the Grütli—the symphony which the orchestra +ought to play at the end I composed in my +mind to-day, because I could do nothing satisfactory +on the little organ: altogether a variety of plans +and ideas occurred to me. There is a vast deal to +do in this world, and I mean to be industrious. The +expression that Goethe made use of to me, that +Schiller could have <em>supplied</em> two great tragedies +every year, with its business-like tone, always inspired +me with particular respect: but not till this +morning did the full force of its signification become +clear to me, and it has made me feel that I must set +to work in earnest. Even the mistakes are captivating, +and there is something grand in them; and +though certainly Bertha, Rudenz, and old Attinghausen, +seem to me great blemishes, still Schiller's +idea is evident, and he was in a manner forced to do +as he has done; and it is consolatory to find that +even so great a man could for once commit such an +egregious mistake.</p> + +<p>I have passed a most enjoyable morning, and I +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_264"> 264</a></span> +feel in the kind of mood which makes you long to +recall such a man to life, in order to thank him, and +inspiring an earnest desire, one day, to compose a +work which shall impress others with similar feelings.</p> + +<p>Probably you do not understand what induced me +to take up my quarters here in Engelberg. It happened +thus:—I have not had a single day's rest +since I left Untersee, and therefore wished to remain +for a day at Meiringen, but was tempted by the +lovely weather in the morning, to come on here. +The usual rain and wind assailed me on the mountains, +and so I arrived very tired. This is the +nicest inn imaginable,—clean, tidy, very small and +rustic,—an old white-haired innkeeper; a wooden +house, situated in a meadow, a little apart from the +road; and the people so kind and cordial, that I feel +quite at home. I think this kind of domestic comfort +is only to be found among those who speak the +German tongue; at all events, I never met with it +anywhere else; and though other nations may not +feel the want of it, or scarcely care about it, still <em>I</em> +am a native of Hamburg, and so it makes me feel +happy and at home. It is not therefore strange that +I decided on taking my day's rest here with these +worthy old people. My room has windows on every +side, commanding a view of the valley: the room is +prettily panelled with wood; some coloured texts +and a crucifix are hanging on the walls; there is a +solid green stove, and a bench encircling it, and two +lofty bedsteads. When I am lying in bed I have +the following view:—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_265"> 265</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/283.jpg" width="500" height="491" alt="Engelberg sketch" /> +</div> + +<p>I have failed again in my buildings, and in the +hills too, but I hope to make a better sketch of it +for you in my book, if the weather is tolerable to-morrow. +I shall always consider this valley to be +one of the loveliest in all Switzerland. I have not +yet seen the gigantic mountains by which it is encompassed, +as they have been all day shrouded in +mist; but the beautiful meadows, the numerous +brooks, the houses, and the foot of the hills, so far +as I could see them, are exquisitely lovely. The +green of the Unterwalden is more brilliant than in +any other canton, and it is celebrated for its meadows +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_266"> 266</a></span> +even among the Swiss. The previous journey too +from Sarnen was enchanting, and never did I see +larger or finer trees, or a more fruitful country. +Moreover the road is attended with as few difficulties +as if you were traversing a large garden; the +declivities are clothed with tall slender beeches; the +stones overgrown by moss and herbs; then there +are springs, brooks, small lakes, and houses: on one +side is a view of the Unterwalden and its green +plains; and shortly after a view of the whole vale +of Hasli, the snowy mountains, and cataracts leaping +down from rocky precipices; the road too is shaded +the whole way by enormous trees.</p> + +<p>Yesterday, early, as I told you, I was tempted by +the bright sun to cross the Genthel valley to ascend +the Joch, but on the summit the most dreadful +weather set in; we were obliged to make our way +through the snow, and this was sometimes anything +but pleasant. We speedily, however, emerged out +of the sleet and snow, and an enchanting moment +ensued, when the clouds broke, while we were still +standing in them; and far beneath us, we saw +through the mists as through a black veil, the +green valley of Engelberg. We soon made our way +down, and heard the silvery bell of the monastery +ring out the Ave Maria. We next saw the white +building on the meadow, and arrived here after an +expedition of nine hours. I need not say how +acceptable at such a time is a comfortable inn, and +how good the rice and milk seems, and how long you +sleep next morning.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_267"> 267</a></span> +To-day we have had very disagreeable weather, so +they brought me "Wilhelm Tell" from the library +of the monastery, and the rest you know. I was +much struck by Schiller having so completely failed +in portraying Rudenz, for the whole character is +feeble, and without sufficient motive, and it seems +as if he had resolved purposely to represent him +throughout, in the worst possible light. His words, +in the scene with the apple, might tend to redeem +him, but being preceded by that with Bertha, they +make no impression. When he joins the Swiss, after +the death of Attinghausen, it might be supposed +that he is changed, but he instantly proclaims that +his Bertha is carried off, so again he has as little +merit as ever. It occurred to me that if he had +uttered the very same manly words against Gessler, +without the explanation with Bertha having previously +taken place, and if such a result had arisen +out of this in the following act, the character would +have been much better, and the explanatory scene +not so merely theatrical as it now is. This is certainly +very like the egg and the hen, but I should +like to hear your opinion on the subject. I dare not +speak to one of our learned men on such matters; +these gentlemen are a vast deal too wise! If however +I chance some of these days to meet one of +those youthful modern poets, who look down on +Schiller, and only partly approve of him; so much +the worse for him, for I must infallibly crush him to +death.</p> + +<p>Now, good night; I must rise very early to-morrow; +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_268"> 268</a></span> +it is to be a grand fête to-day in the monastery, +and a solemn religious service, and I am to play the +organ for them. The monks were listening this +morning while I was extemporizing a little, and +were so pleased, that they invited me to play the +people in and out at their festival to-morrow. The +father organist has also given me the subject on +which I am to extemporize; it is better than any +that would have occurred to an organist in Italy.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/286.jpg" width="250" height="51" alt="music286a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/286a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>I shall see to-morrow what I can make of this. I +played a couple of new pieces of mine on the organ +this afternoon in the church, and they sounded +rather well. When I came past the monastery the +same evening, the church was closed, and scarcely +were the doors shut, when the monks began to sing +nocturns fervently, in the dark church; they intoned +the deep B, which vibrated splendidly, and could be +heard far down the valley.</p> + +<h3>August 24th.</h3> + +<p>This has been another splendid day—the weather +bright and enjoyable, and the bluest sky that I have +seen since I left Chamouni; it was a holiday in the +village, and in all the mountains. After long-continued +fogs, and every variety of bad weather, once +more to see from the window in the morning the +clear range of mountains and their pinnacles, is indeed +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_269"> 269</a></span> +a grand spectacle. They are acknowledged to +be finest after rain, and to-day they looked as fresh +as if newly created. This valley is not surpassed +by any in Switzerland. If I ever return here this +shall be my head-quarters, for it is even more lovely, +and more spacious and unconfined than Chamouni, +and more free than Interlaken. The Spann-örter +are incredibly grand peaks, and the round Titlis +heavily laden with snow, the foot of which lies in the +meadows, and the effect of the Urner rocks in the +distance, are also well worth seeing: it is now full +moon, and the valley is clothed in beauty.</p> + +<p>This whole day I have done nothing but sketch, +and play the organ: in the morning I performed my +duties as organist—it was a grand affair. The organ +stands close to the high altar, next to the stalls for +the "patres;"—so I took my place in the midst of +the monks, a very Saul among the prophets. An +impatient Benedictine at my side played the double +bass, and others the violins; one of their dignitaries +was first violin. The <em>pater præceptor</em> stood in front +of me, sang a solo, and conducted with a long stick, +as thick as my arm. The <em>élèves</em> in the monastery +formed the choir, in their black cowls; an old decayed +rustic played on an old decayed oboe, and at +a little distance two more were puffing away composedly +at two huge trumpets with green tassels; +and yet with all this the affair was gratifying. It +was impossible not to like the people, for they had +plenty of zeal, and all worked away as well as they +could. A mass, by Emmerich, was given, and every +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_270"> 270</a></span> +note of it betrayed its "powder and pigtail." I +played thorough-bass faithfully from my ciphered +part, adding wind instruments from time to time, +when I was weary; made the responses, extemporized +on the appointed theme, and at the end, by +desire of the Prelate, played a march, in spite of my +repugnance to do this on the organ, and was then +honourably dismissed.</p> + +<p>This afternoon I played again alone to the monks, +who gave me the finest subjects in the world—the +"Credo" among others—a <em>fantasia</em> on the latter was +very successful; it is the only one that in my life I +ever wished I could have written down, but now I +can only remember its general purport, and must +ask permission to send Fanny, in this letter, a passage +that I do not wish to forget. By degrees various +counter subjects were introduced in opposition to +the <em>canto fermo</em>; first dotted notes, then triplets, +at last rapid semiquavers, through which the "Credo" +was to work its way; quite at the close, the semiquavers +became very wild, and arpeggios followed on +the whole organ in G minor. I proceeded to take up +the theme on the pedal in long notes (during the +continued arpeggios), so that it ended with A. On +the A, I made a pedal point in arpeggios, and then +it suddenly occurred to me to play the arpeggios +with the left hand alone, so that the right hand +could introduce the "Credo" again in the treble +with A, thus:—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_271"> 271</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/289.jpg" width="300" height="260" alt="music289a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/289a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>etc.</p> + +<p>This was followed by a stop on the last note, and +a pause, and then it concluded. I wish you had +heard it, for I am sure you would have been pleased. +It was time for the monks to go to <em>complines</em>, and +we took leave of each other cordially. They wished +to give me letters of introduction for some other +places in Unterwalden, but I declined this, as I intend +to go to Lucerne early to-morrow, and after +that I expect not to be more than five or six days +longer in Switzerland.—Your</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_272"> 272</a></span></p> + +<p class="center smcap">To Wilhelm Taubert.</p> + +<h3>Lucerne, August 27th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>I wish to offer you my thanks, but I really do not +know where to begin first; whether for the pleasure +your songs caused me in Milan, or for your kind +letter which I received yesterday; both however are +closely connected, and so I think we have already +made acquaintance. It is quite as fitting that we +should be presented to each other through the +medium of music-paper, as by a third person in +society; indeed I think that in the former case you +feel even more intimate and confidential. Moreover, +persons who introduce any one often pronounce the +name so indistinctly, that you seldom know who is +standing before you; and they never say one word +as to whether the man is gay and good-humoured, +or melancholy and gloomy. So we are infinitely +better off. Your songs have pronounced your name +clearly and plainly; they also disclose what you +think and what you are; that you love music, and +wish to make progress; so thus perhaps I know you +better than if we had frequently met.</p> + +<p>What a source of pleasure it is, and how cheering, +to know there is another musician in the world who +has the same purposes and aspirations, and who follows +the same path as yourself; perhaps you cannot +feel this so strongly as I do at this moment, who +have just come from a country where music no longer +exists among the people. I never before could have +believed this of any nation, and least of all of Italy, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_273"> 273</a></span> +with such rich and luxuriant nature, and such +glorious, inspiriting antecedents. But alas! the +occurrences I latterly witnessed there, fully proved +to me that even more than harmony is dead in that +land; it would indeed be marvellous if any music +could exist where there is no solid principle. At +last I was really bewildered, and thought that I +must have become a hypochondriac, for all the buffoonery +I saw was most distasteful to me, and yet a +vast number of serious people and sedate citizens +entered into it. When they played me anything of +their own, and afterwards praised and extolled my +pieces, I cannot tell you how repugnant it was to +me; I felt disposed to become a hermit, with beard +and cowl, and the whole world was at a discount with +me. In Italy you first learn to value a true musician; +that is, one whose thoughts are absorbed in +<em>music</em>, and not in money, or decorations, or ladies, +or fame; it is doubly delightful when you find that, +without your being aware of it, your own ideas exist +and are developed elsewhere; your songs therefore +gave me especial pleasure, because I could gather +from them that you must be a genuine musician, and +so let us mutually stretch out our hands across the +mountains.</p> + +<p>I beg that you will also look on me in the light +of a friend, and not write so formally as to my +"counsel" and "teaching." This portion of your +letter makes me feel almost nervous, and I scarcely +know what to say; the most agreeable part however +is your promise to send me something to Munich, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_274"> 274</a></span> +and to write to me again. I will then tell you +frankly and freely my honest opinion, and you shall +do the same with regard to my new compositions, +and thus I think we shall give each other good +counsel. I am very eager to see those recent works +of yours that you have promised me, for I do not +doubt that I shall receive much gratification from +them, and many things which are only foreshadowed +in the former songs, will probably in these become +manifest and distinct. I shall therefore say nothing +to-day of the impression your songs have made on +me, because possibly any suggestion or question +may be already answered in what you are about to +send me. I earnestly entreat of you to write to me +fully, and in detail, about yourself, in order that we +may become better acquainted. I can then write to +you what I purpose and what I think, and thus we +shall continue in close connection.</p> + +<p>Let me know what you have recently composed +and are now composing; your mode of life in Berlin, +and your plans for the future; in short all that concerns +your musical life, which will be of the greatest +interest to me. Probably this will be obvious in +the music you have so kindly promised me, but fortunately +both may be combined. Have you hitherto +composed nothing on a greater scale; some wild +symphony, or opera, or something of the kind? I, +for my part, feel at this moment the most invincible +desire to write an opera, and yet I have scarcely +leisure even to commence any work, however small. +I do believe that if the libretto were to be given to +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_275"> 275</a></span> +me to-day, the opera would be written by to-morrow, +so strong is my impulse towards it. Formerly the +bare idea of a symphony was so exciting, that I +could think of nothing else when one was in my +head; the sound of instruments has such a solemn +and glorious effect; and yet for some time past I +have laid aside a symphony that I had commenced, +in order to compose on a cantata of Goethe's merely +because it included, besides the orchestra, voices +and a chorus. I intend now, indeed, to complete +the symphony, but there is nothing I so strongly +covet as a regular opera.</p> + +<p>Where the libretto is to come from I know less +than ever since last night, when for the first time +for more than a year I saw a German æsthetic +paper. The German Parnassus seems in as disorganized +a condition as European politics. God help +us! I was obliged to digest the supercilious Menzel, +who presumed modestly to depreciate Goethe,—and +the supercilious Grabbe, who modestly depreciates +Shakspeare,—and the philosophers who proclaim +Schiller to be rather trivial! Is this new, arrogant, +overbearing spirit, this perverse cynicism, as odious +to you as it is to me? and are you of the same +opinion with myself, that the first and most indispensable +quality of any artist is to feel respect for +great men, and to bow down in spirit before them; +to recognize their merits, and not to endeavour to +extinguish their great flame, in order that his own +feeble rushlight may burn a little brighter? If a +person be incapable of feeling true greatness, I +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_276"> 276</a></span> +should like to know how he intends to make <em>me</em> feel +it? And as all these people, with their airs of +contempt, only at last succeed in producing imitations +of this or that particular form, without any presentiment +of free, fresh, creative power, unfettered +by individual opinion, or æsthetics or criticism, or +the whole world besides; as this is the case, do they +not deserve to be abused? and I do abuse them. +Pray do not take this amiss; perhaps I have gone +too far. But, it was long since I had read anything +of the kind, and it vexes me to see that such folly +still goes on, and that the philosopher who maintains +that art is dead, still persists in declaring that it is +so; as if art could in reality ever die.</p> + +<p>These are truly strange, wild, and troubled times; +and let those who feel that art is no more, allow it +for Heaven's sake to rest in peace; but however +roughly the storm may rage without, it cannot so +quickly succeed in sweeping away the dwelling; and +he who works on quietly within, fixing his thoughts +on his own capabilities and purposes, and not on +those of others, will see the hurricane blow over, +and afterwards find it difficult to realize that it +ever was so violent as it appeared at the time. I +have resolved to act thus so long as I can, and to +pursue my path steadily, for at all events no one +will deny that music still exists, and that is the chief +thing.</p> + +<p>How cheering it is to meet with a person who has +chosen the same object and the same means as +yourself! and I would fain tell you how gratifying +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_277"> 277</a></span> +each new corroboration of this is to me, but I +scarcely know how to do so. You must imagine it +for yourself, and your own thoughts must supply any +deficiencies; so farewell! Pray let me hear from +you soon, and frequently. I beg to send my kindest +wishes to our dear friend Berger;<a name="FNanchor_22" id="FNanchor_22" href="#Footnote_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> I have been +long intending to write to him, but have never yet +accomplished it. I shall certainly however do so +one of these days. Forgive this long, dry letter, +next time it shall be more interesting, and now once +more farewell.—Yours,</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Righi Culm, August 30th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>I am on the Righi! I need say no more, for you +know this mountain. What can be more grand or +superb? I left Lucerne early this morning. All +the mountains were obscured, and the weather-wise +prophesied bad weather. As however I have always +found that the very opposite of what the wise people +say invariably occurs! I tried to make out signs for +myself, though hitherto, in spite of their aid, I have +found my predictions quite as false as those of the +others; but this morning I really thought the weather +very tolerable; still, as I did not wish to begin my +ascent while all was still shrouded in vapour (for +the Faulhorn had taught me caution), I spent the</p> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_278"> 278</a></span> +whole morning in sauntering round the foot of the +Righi, gazing eagerly upwards, to see if the mists +were likely to clear off. At last, about twelve +o'clock, at Küssnacht, I stood on the cross path +leading towards the Righi to the right, and Immensee +to the left; and making up my mind not to see +the Righi on this occasion, I took a tender farewell +of it, and went through the Hohle Gasse to the +Lake of Zug, along a charming path, past the water, +to Arth; but could not resist frequently glancing at +the summit of the Righi Culm, to see if it was becoming +clearer; and while I was dining at Arth it +did clear up. The wind was very favourable, the +clouds lifted on every side; so I made up my mind +to begin the ascent.</p> + +<p>There was no time to lose, however, if I wished to +witness the sunset; so I went along at a steady +mountain pace, and in the course of two hours and +three-quarters I reached the Culm, and the well-known +house. I then became aware that there were +about forty men standing on the top, uplifting their +hands in admiration, and making signs in a state of +the greatest excitement. I ran up, and a new and +wondrous sight it was. All the valleys were filled +with fogs and clouds, and above them the lofty, snowy +crests of the mountains and the glaciers and black +rocks stood out bright and clear. The mists swept +onwards, veiling a portion of the scenery; then came +forth the Bernese Alps, the Jungfrau, the Mönch, +and the Finsteraarhorn; then Titlis, and the Unterwalden +mountains. At last the whole range was +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_279"> 279</a></span> +distinctly visible; the clouds in the valleys now also +began to roll away, disclosing the lakes of Lucerne +and Zug, and towards the hour of sunset, only thin +streaks of bright vapour still floated on the landscape. +Coming from the Alp, and then looking +towards the Righi, it was as if the overture and +other portions were repeated at the end of an opera. +All the spots whence you have seen such sublime +scenery, the Wengern Alp, the Wetter Hörner, +the valley of Engelberg, here meet the eye once +more in close vicinity, and you can take leave of +them all. I had imagined that it was only at first, +when still ignorant of the glaciers, that so great +an impression was made, from the influence of surprise, +but I think the effect at the last is even more +striking than ever.</p> + +<h3>Schwytz, August 31st.</h3> + +<p>Yesterday and to-day I gratefully recalled the +happy auspices under which I first made acquaintance +with this part of the world. The remembrance +of your profound admiration of these wonders, elevating +you above every-day life, has contributed not +a little to awaken and to quicken my own perception +of them. I often to-day recurred to your delight, and +the deep impression it made on me at the time. So +the Righi is evidently disposed to be gracious to our +family, and in consequence of this kindly feeling +towards us, conferred on me to-day a sunrise quite +as brilliant and splendid as when you were here. +The waning moon, the lively Alpine horn, the long-protracted +rosy dawn which first stole over the cold. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_280"> 280</a></span> +shadowy, snowy mountains, the white clouds on the +Lake of Zug, the clear, sharp peaks bending towards +each other in all directions, the light which gradually +crept on the heights, the restless, shivering people, +wrapped in coverlets, the monks from Maria zum +Schnee, nothing was wanting.</p> + +<p>I could not tear myself away from this spectacle, +and remained on the summit for six consecutive +hours, gazing at the mountains. I thought that +when next I saw them there might be many changes, +so I wished to imprint the sight indelibly on my +memory. People came and went, and talked of +these anxious, troubled times, of politics, and of the +grand mountain range before us.</p> + +<p>Thus the morning passed away, and at last, at +half-past ten o'clock, I was obliged to go; indeed it +was high time, as I wished to get to Einsiedel the +same day, by Hacken. On my way, however, in the +steep path leading to Lowerz, my trusty old umbrella, +which also served me as a mountain staff, broke to +pieces; this detained me, so that I preferred remaining +here, and to-morrow I hope to be quite fresh for +a start.</p> + +<h3>Wallenstadt, September 2nd.</h3> + +<p>(Year of rains and storms.) Motto of the copper-smith—"If +you can't sing a new song, then begin +the old one afresh." Here am I again in the midst +of fogs and clouds, unable to go either backwards or +forwards, and if fortune specially favours us, we may +have a slight inundation into the bargain. When I +crossed the lake, the boatmen prophesied very fine +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_281"> 281</a></span> +weather, consequently the rain began half an hour +later, and is not likely soon to cease, for there are +piles of heavy, gloomy clouds, such as you can only +see on the mountains. If it were twice as bad three +days hence, I should not care, but it would be +grievous indeed if Switzerland were to take leave of +me with so ill-omened an aspect.</p> + +<p>I have this moment returned from the church, +where I have been playing the organ for three hours, +far into the twilight: an old man, a cripple, blew the +bellows for me, and except him, there was not a +single soul in the church. The only stops I found +available, were a very weak croaking flute, and a +quavering deep pedal diapason, of sixteen feet. I +contrived to extemporize with these materials, and +at last subsided into a choral melody in E minor, +without being able to remember what it was. I +could not get rid of it, when all at once it occurred +to me that it was a Litany, the music of which was +in my head because the words were in my heart, so +then I had a wide field, and plenty of food for extemporizing. +At length the consumptive deep bass +resounded quite alone in E minor, thus:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/299.jpg" width="300" height="117" alt="music299a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/299a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_282"> 282</a></span> +and then came in its turn the flute, high up in the +treble, with the choral in the same key, and so the +sounds of the organ gradually died away, and I was +obliged to stop, from the church being so dark.</p> + +<p>In the meantime there was a terrible hurricane of +wind and rain outside, and not a trace of the grand +lofty rocky precipices; the most dreary weather! and +then I read some dreary newspapers, and everything +wore a grey hue. Tell me, Fanny, do you know +Auber's "Parisienne?" I consider it the very worst +thing he has ever produced, perhaps because the +subject was really sublime, and for other reasons +also. Auber alone could have been guilty of composing +for a great nation, in the most violent state +of excitement, a cold, insignificant piece, quite +commonplace, and trivial. The <em>refrain</em> revolts +me every time I think of it,—it is as if children +were playing with a drum, and singing to it—only +more objectionable. The words also are worthless; +little antitheses and points are quite out of place +here. Then the emptiness of the music! a march +for acrobats, and at the end a mere miserable imitation +of the "Marseillaise." Such music is not what +this epoch demands. Woe to us <em>if</em> it be indeed +what suits this epoch,—if a mere copy of the Marseillaise +Hymn be all that is required. What in the +latter is full of fire, and spirit, and impetus, is in +the former ostentatious, cold, calculated, and artificial. +The "Marseillaise" is as superior to the +"Parisienne" as everything produced by genuine +enthusiasm must be, to what is made for a purpose, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_283"> 283</a></span> +even if it be with a view to promote enthusiasm; it +will never reach the heart, because it does not come +from the heart.</p> + +<p>By the way, I never saw such a striking identity +between a poet and a musician, as between Auber +and Clauren. Auber faithfully renders note for +note, what the other writes word for word—braggadocio, +degrading sensuality, pedantry, epicurism, +and parodies of foreign nationality. But why should +Clauren be effaced from the literature of the day? +Is it prejudicial to any one that he should remain +where he is? and do you read what is really good +with less interest? Any young poet must indeed be +degenerate, if he does not cordially hate and despise +such trash; but it is only too true that the people +like him; so it is all very well, it is only the people's +own loss. Write me your opinion of the "Parisienne." +I sometimes sing it to myself for fun, as I +go along; it makes a man walk like a chorister in a +procession.</p> + +<h3>Sargans, September 3rd, noon.</h3> + +<p>Wretched weather! it has rained all night, and +all the morning too, and the cold as severe as in +winter; deep snow is lying on the adjacent hills. +There has been again a tremendous inundation in +Appenzell, which has done the greatest damage, and +destroyed all the roads. At the Lake of Zurich, +there are numbers of pilgrimages, and processions, +on account of the weather. I was obliged to drive +here this morning, as all the footpaths were covered +with mud and water. I shall remain till to-morrow, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_284"> 284</a></span> +when the diligence passes through at an early hour, +and I intend to go with it up the valley of the Rhine, +as far as Altstetten.</p> + +<p>To-morrow I shall probably have reached, or +crossed, the boundaries of Switzerland, for my pleasure +excursion is now over. Autumn is arrived, and +I have no right to complain if I pass a few tiresome +days, after so many enchanting ones, that I can +never forget. On the contrary, I think I almost like +it; there is always enough to be done, even in Sargans, +(a wretched hole,) and in a regular deluge, +like that of to-day—for happily an organ is always +to be found in this country; they are certainly +small, and the lower octave, both in the key-board +and the pedal, imperfect, or as I call it, crippled; +but still they are organs, and that is enough for me.</p> + +<p>I have been playing all this morning, and really +begun to practise, for it is a shame that I cannot play +Sebastian Bach's principal works. I intend, if I +can manage it, to practise for an hour every day in +Munich, as after a couple of hours' work to-day, I +certainly made considerable progress with my feet +(<em>nota bene</em>, sitting). Ritz once told me that +Schneider, in Dresden, played him the D major +fugue, in the "wohl-temperirten Clavier," on the +organ, supplying the bass with the pedal.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/302.jpg" width="200" height="47" alt="music302a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/302a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>This had hitherto appeared to me so fabulous, that I +could never properly comprehend it. It recurred to +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_285"> 285</a></span> +me this morning when I was playing the organ, so I +instantly attempted it, and I at least see that it is +far from being impossible, and that I shall accomplish +it. The subject went pretty well, so I practised +passages from the D major fugue, for the +organ, from the F major toccata, and the G minor +fugue, all of which I knew by heart. If I find a +tolerable organ in Munich, and not an imperfect +one, I will certainly conquer these, and feel childish +delight at the idea of playing such pieces on the +organ. The F major toccata, with the modulation +at the close, sounded as if the church were about +to tumble down; what a giant that Cantor was!</p> + +<p>Besides organ-playing, I have a good many +sketches to finish, in my new drawing book, (one +was entirely filled in Engelberg) and then I must +eat like six hundred wrestlers. After dinner I +practise the organ again, and thus a rainy day +passes at Sargans. It seems prettily situated, with +a castle on the hill, but I cannot go a step beyond +the door.</p> + +<p><em>Evening.</em>—Yesterday at this time, I still projected +a pedestrian tour, and wished at all events to +go through the whole of the Appenzell. It was a +strange feeling when I learned that all mountain +excursions were probably at an end for this year: +the heights are covered with deep snow, for just as +it has rained here, in the valley, for thirty-six hours, +it has snowed incessantly on the hills above. The +flocks have been obliged to come down into the +valley from the Alps, where they ought to have remained +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_286"> 286</a></span> +for a whole month yet, so that all idea of +any footpaths is out of the question. Yesterday I +was still on the hills, but now they will be inaccessible +for six months to come. My pedestrian excursions +are over; wondrously beautiful they were, and +I shall never forget them.</p> + +<p>I mean to work hard at music, and high time +that I should. I played on the organ till twilight, +and was trampling energetically on the pedal, when +we suddenly became aware that the deep C sharp +in the great diapason, went buzzing softly on without +ceasing; all our pressing, and shaking, and +thumping on the keys, was of no avail, so we were +obliged to climb into the organ among the big pipes. +The C sharp continued gently humming,—the fault +lay in the bellows; the organist was in the greatest +perplexity, because to-morrow is a fête day; at last +I stuffed my handkerchief into the pipe, and there +was no more buzzing, but no more C sharp either. +I played this passage incessantly, all the same:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/304.jpg" width="200" height="48" alt="music.304a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/304a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p>and it did very well.</p> + +<p>I am now going to finish my sketch of the Glacier +of the Rhone, and then the day will be at my own +disposal; which means that I am going to sleep. +I will write to you on the next page to-morrow evening +wherever I am, for to-day I have no idea where +I shall be. Good night! Eight is striking in F +minor, and it is raining and blowing in F sharp +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_287"> 287</a></span> +minor or G sharp minor; in short, in every possible +sharp key.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/305.jpg" width="300" height="43" alt="music305a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/305a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<h3>St. Gall, the 4th.</h3> + +<p>Motto—"Vous pensez que je suis l'Abbé de St. +Gall" (Citoyen).<a name="FNanchor_23" id="FNanchor_23" href="#Footnote_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> I do feel so comfortable here, +after braving such storms and tempests. During +the four hours when I was crossing the mountains +from Altstetten to this place, I was engaged in a +regular battle with the elements; when I tell you +that I never experienced anything like the storm, +nor even imagined anything approaching to it, this +does not say much; but the oldest people in the +Canton declare the same: a large manufactory has +been demolished, and several persons killed. To-morrow, +in my last letter from Switzerland, I will +tell you of my being again obliged to travel on +foot, and arriving here, after crossing by Appenzell, +which looked like Egypt after the seven plagues. +The bell is now ringing for dinner, and I mean to +feast like an abbot.</p> + +<h3>Lindau, September 5th.</h3> + +<p>Opposite me lies Switzerland, with her dark blue +mountains, pedestrian journeys, storms, and glorious +heights and valleys. Here ends the greatest part of +my journey, and my journal also.</p> + +<p>At noon to-day, I crossed the wild grey Rhine in +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_288"> 288</a></span> +a ferry-boat, above Rheineck, and now here I am, +already in Bavaria. I have of course entirely given +up my projected excursion on foot, through the +Bavarian mountains; for it would be folly to attempt +anything of the kind this year. For the last four +days it has rained more or less with incessant vehemence; +it seemed as if Providence were wroth. I +passed to-day through extensive orchards, which +were not under water, but fairly submerged by mud +and clay; everything looks deplorable and depressing; +you must therefore forgive the doleful style +of this last sheet. I never in any landscape saw a +more dreary sight than the sward of the green hills, +covered with deep snow; while below, the fruit-trees, +with their ripe fruit, were standing reflected in the +water. The scanty covering of muddy snow, which +lay on the fir-woods and meadows, looked the personification +of all that was dismal. A Sargans +burgher told me that in 1811 this little town had +been entirely burnt down, and recently with difficulty +rebuilt; that they depend chiefly on the produce +of their vineyards, which have been this year +destroyed by hail-storms, and the Alps also were +now no longer available; this gives rise to serious +reflections, and to anxious thoughts with regard to +this year.</p> + +<p>It is singular enough that if I am obliged to go +on foot in such weather, and fairly exposed to it, I +am not in the least annoyed; on the contrary, I +rather rejoice in setting it at defiance. When I +arrived by the diligence yesterday at Altstetten, in +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_289"> 289</a></span> +freezing cold, like a day in December, I found that +there was no carriage road to Tourgen, to which +place I had unluckily sent on my cloak and knapsack +on the last fine day. I was obliged to have them +the same evening, for the cold was intense, so I did +not hesitate long, but set off once more for the last +time to cross the mountains, and arrived in the +Canton of Appenzell.</p> + +<p>The state of the woods, and hills, and meadows, +and little bridges, baffles all description; being Sunday, +and divine service going on, I failed in procuring +a guide; not a living soul met me the whole +way, for all the people had crept into their houses, +so I toiled on quite alone towards Tourgen. To +pass through a wood in such weather, and along +such paths, inspires a wonderful sense of independence. +Moreover I am now quite perfect in the +Swiss <em>jodeln</em> and crowing, so I shouted lustily, and +<em>jodelled</em> several airs at the pitch of my voice, and +arrived in Tourgen in capital spirits. The people +in the inn there were rude and saucy, so I politely +said, "You be hanged! I shall go on;" and taking +out my map, I found that St. Gall was the nearest +convenient place, and in fact the only practicable +route. I could not succeed in persuading any one +to go with me in such horrible weather, so I resolved +to carry my own things, abusing all Swiss cordiality.</p> + +<p>Shortly afterwards, however, came the reverse of +the medal, which not unfrequently occurs. I went to +the peasant who had brought my luggage here, and +found him in his pretty newly-built wooden house, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_290"> 290</a></span> +and I had thus an opportunity of seeing a veritable +and genuine Swiss interior, just as we imagine it to +be. He and his whole family were sitting round a +table, the house clean and warm, and the stove +burning. The old man rose and gave me his hand, +and insisted on my taking a seat; he then sent +through the whole place to try to get me a carriage, +or a man to carry my things, but as no one would +either drive or walk, he at last sent his own son with +me. He only asked two <em>Batzen</em> for carrying my +knapsack for two hours. A very pretty fair daughter +was sitting at the table sewing, the mother reading +a thick book, and the old man himself studying +the newspapers; it was a charming picture.</p> + +<p>When at last I set off, the weather seemed to say, +"If you defy me I can defy you also," for the storm +broke loose with redoubled violence, and an invisible +hand appeared to seize my umbrella at intervals, +shaking it and crumpling it together, and my fingers +were so benumbed that I could scarcely hold it fast; +the paths were so desperately slippery that my guide +fell sprawling full length before me in the mud; but +what cared we? We <em>jodelled</em> and reviled the weather +to our hearts' content, and at last we passed the +Nunnery, which we greeted by a serenade, and soon +after reached St. Gall.</p> + +<p>Our journey was happily over, and yesterday I +drove here, and at night met with a wonderful +organ, on which I could play "Schmücke dich, O +liebe Seele!" to my heart's content.</p> + +<p>To-day I proceed to Memmingen, to-morrow to +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_291"> 291</a></span> +Augsburg; the day after, God willing, to Munich; +and thus, I may now say, I <em>have been</em> in Switzerland. +Perhaps I have rather bored you by all the trivial +occurrences I have detailed. These are gloomy +times, but we need not be so; and when I sent you +my journal, it was chiefly to show you that I thought +of you whenever I was pleased and happy, and was +with you in spirit. The shabby, dripping pedestrian +bids you farewell, and a town gentleman, with +visiting-cards, fine linen, and a black coat, will write +to you next time. Farewell.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<p class="center smcap">Burgher Letter from Munich.</p> + +<h3>Munich, October 6th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>It is a delightful feeling to wake in the morning +and to know that you are to score a grand allegro +with all sorts of instruments, and various oboes and +trumpets, while bright weather holds out the hope +of a cheering long walk in the afternoon.</p> + +<p>I have enjoyed these pleasures for a whole week +past, so the favourable impression that Munich +made on me during my first visit, is now very much +enhanced. I scarcely know any place where I feel +so comfortable and domesticated as here. It is +indeed very delightful to be surrounded by cheerful +faces, and your own to be so also, and to know every +man you meet in the streets.</p> + +<p>I am now preparing for my concert, so my hands +are pretty full; my acquaintances every instant +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_292"> 292</a></span> +interrupting me in my work, the lovely weather +tempting me to go out, and the copyists, in turn, +forcing me to stay at home; all this constitutes the +most agreeable and exciting life. I was obliged to +put off my concert, on account of the October festival, +which begins next Sunday, and lasts all the +week. Every evening there is to be a performance +at the theatre, and a ball, so all idea of an orchestra +or a concert-room is out of the question. On Monday +evening, however, the 17th, at half-past six, +think of me,—for then we dash off with thirty violins, +and two sets of wind instruments.</p> + +<p>The first part begins with the symphony in C +minor, the second with the "Midsummer Night's +Dream." The first part closes with my new concerto +in G minor, and at the end of the second I have unwillingly +agreed to extemporize. Believe me, I do +so very reluctantly, but the people insist upon it. +Bärmann has decided on playing again; Breiting, +Mlle. Vial, Loehle, Bayer, and Pellegrini are the +singers who are to execute a piece together. The +locality is the large Odeon Hall, and the performance +for the benefit of the poor in Munich. The magistrates +invite the orchestra, and the burgomasters the +singers. Every morning I am engaged in writing, +correcting, and scoring till one o'clock, when I go +to Scheidel's coffee-house in the Kaufinger Gasse, +where I know each face by heart, and find the same +people every day in the same position; two playing +chess, three looking on, five reading the newspapers, +six eating their dinner, and I am the seventh. After +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_293"> 293</a></span> +dinner Bärmann usually comes to fetch me, and we +make arrangements about the concert, or after a +walk we have cheese and beer, and then I return +home and set to work again.</p> + +<p>This time I have declined all invitations for the +evening; but there are so many agreeable houses, to +which I can go uninvited, that a light is seldom to +be seen in my room on the parterre till after eight +o'clock. You must know that I lodge on a level +with the street, in a room which was once a shop, so +that if I unbar the shutters of my glass door, one +step brings me into the middle of the street, and any +one passing along, can put his head in at the window, +and say good morning. Next to me a Greek lodges, +who is learning the piano, and he is truly odious; +but to make up for that, my landlord's daughter, +who wears a round silver cap and is very slender, +looks all the prettier.</p> + +<p>I have music in my rooms at four o'clock in the +afternoon, three times every week: Bärmann, Breiting, +Staudacher, young Poissl, and others, come +regularly, and we have a musical picnic. In this way +I become acquainted with operas, which, most unpardonably, +I have not yet either heard or seen; such +as Lodoiska, Faniska, Medea; also the Preciosa, Abu +Hassan, etc. The theatre lends us the scores.</p> + +<p>Last Wednesday we had capital fun; several +wagers had been lost, and it was agreed that we +should enjoy the fruits of them all together; and +after various suggestions, we at last decided on +having a musical soirée in my room, and to invite +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_294"> 294</a></span> +all the dignitaries; so a list was made out of about +thirty persons; several also came uninvited, who +were presented to us by mutual friends. There was +a sad want of space; at first we proposed placing +several people on my bed, but it was surprising the +number of patient sheep who managed to cram into +my small room. The whole affair was most lively +and successful. E—— was present, as dulcet as +ever, languishing in all the glory of poetical enthusiasm, +and grey stockings; in short, tiresome beyond +all description.</p> + +<p>First I played my old quartett in B minor; then +Breiting sang "Adelaide;" Herr S—— played variations +on the violin (doing himself no credit); Bärmann +performed Beethoven's first quartett (in F +major), which he had arranged for two clarionets, +corno di bassetto, and bassoon; an air from "Euryanthe" +followed, which was furiously encored, and +as a finale I extemporized—tried hard to get off—but +they made such a tremendous uproar that <em>nolens</em> +I was forced to comply, though I had nothing in +my head, but wine-glasses, benches, cold roast meat, +and ham.</p> + +<p>The Cornelius ladies were next-door with my landlord +and his family, to listen to me; the Schauroths +were making a visit on the first story for the same +purpose, and even in the hall, and in the street, +people were standing; in addition to all this, the +heat of the crowded room, the deafening noise, +the gay audience; and when at last the time for +eating and drinking arrived, the uproar was at its +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_295"> 295</a></span> +height; we fraternized glass in hand, and gave +toasts; the more formal guests with their grave +faces, sat in the midst of the jovial throng, apparently +quite contented, and we did not separate till +half-past one in the morning.</p> + +<p>The following evening formed a striking contrast. +I was summoned to play before the Queen, and the +Court; there all was proper and polite, and polished, +and every time you moved your elbow, you pushed +against an Excellency; the most smooth and complimentary +phrases circulated in the room, and I, the +<em>roturier</em>, stood in the midst of them, with my citizen +heart, and my aching head! I managed however to +get on pretty well, and at the end, I was commanded +to extemporize on Royal themes, which I did, and +was mightily commended; what pleased me most +was, that when I had finished my extempore playing, +the Queen said to me, that it was strange the power +I possessed of carrying away my audience, for that +during such music, no one could think of anything +else; on which I begged to apologize for carrying +away Her Majesty, etc.</p> + +<p>This, you see, is the mode in which I pass my time +in Munich. I forgot, however, to say, that every +day at twelve o'clock, I give little Mademoiselle +L—— an hour's instruction in double counterpoint, +and four-part composition, etc., which makes me +realize more than ever the stupidity and confusion +of most masters and books on this subject; for +nothing can be more clear than the whole thing +when properly explained.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_296"> 296</a></span> +She is one of the sweetest creatures I ever saw, +Imagine a small, delicate-looking, pale girl, with +noble but not pretty features, so singular and interesting, +that it is difficult to turn your eyes from her; +while all her gestures and every word are full of +genius. She has the gift of composing songs, and +singing them in a way I never heard before, causing +me the most unalloyed musical delight I ever experienced. +When she is seated at the piano, and +begins one of the songs, the sounds are quite unique; +the music floats strangely to and fro, and every note +expresses the most profound and refined feeling. +When she sings the first note in her tender tones, +every one present subsides into a quiet and thoughtful +mood, and each, in his own way, is deeply +affected.</p> + +<p>If you could but hear her voice! so innocent, so +unconsciously lovely, emanating from her inmost +soul, and yet so tranquil! Last year the genius +was all there; she had written no song that did not +contain some bright flash of talent, and then M—— +and I sounded forth her praises to the musical +world; still no one seemed to place much faith in +us; but since that time, she has made the most +remarkable progress. Those who are not affected +by her present singing, can have no feeling at all; +but unluckily it is now the fashion to beg the young +girl to sing her songs, and then the lights are removed +from the piano, in order that the society may +enjoy the plaintive strains.</p> + +<p>This forms an unpleasant contrast, and repeatedly +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_297"> 297</a></span> +when I was to have played something after her, I +was quite unable, and declined doing so. It is +probable that she may one day be spoiled by all this +praise, because she has no one to comprehend or to +guide her; and, strangely enough, she is as yet entirely +devoid of all musical cultivation; she knows +very little, and can scarcely distinguish good music +from bad; in fact, except her own pieces, she thinks +all else that she hears wonderfully fine. If she were +at length to become satisfied as it were with herself, +it would be all over with her. I have, for my part, +done what I could, and implored her parents and +herself in the most urgent manner, to avoid society, +and not to allow such divine genius to be wasted. +Heaven grant that I may be successful! I may, +perhaps, dear sisters, soon send you some of her +songs that she has copied out for me, in token of her +gratitude for my teaching her what she already +knows from nature; and because I have really led +her to good and solid music.</p> + +<p>I also play on the organ every day for an hour, +but unfortunately I cannot practise properly, as the +pedal is short of five upper notes, so that I cannot +play any of Sebastian Bach's passages on it; but +the stops are wonderfully beautiful, by the aid of +which you can vary chorals; so I dwell with delight +on the celestial, liquid tone of the instrument. +Moreover, Fanny, I have here discovered the particular +stops which ought to be used in Sebastian +Bach's "Schmücke dich, O liebe Seele." They seem +actually made for this melody, and sound so touching, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_298"> 298</a></span> +that a tremor invariably seizes me, when I begin to +play it. For the flowing parts I have a flute stop of +eight feet, and also a very soft one of four feet, which +continually floats above the Choral. You have +heard this effect in Berlin; but there is a keyboard +for the Choral with nothing but reed stops, so I employ +a mellow oboe and a soft clarion (four feet) and +a viola; these give the Choral in subdued and touching +tones, like distant human voices, singing from +the depths of the heart.</p> + +<p>Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, by the time you +will have received this letter, I shall be on the "Theresien +Wiese," with eighty thousand other people; so +think of me there, and farewell.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Munich, October 18th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>Dear Father,</p> + +<p>Pray forgive me for not having written to you for +so long. The last few days previous to my concert, +were passed in such bustle and confusion, that I +really had not a moment's leisure; besides I preferred +writing to you after my concert was over, +that I might tell you all about it, hence the long interval +between this and my former letter.</p> + +<p>I write to you in particular to-day, because it is +so long since I have had a single line from you; I +do beg you will soon write to me, if only to say that +you are well, and to send me your kind wishes. +You know this always makes me glad and happy; +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_299"> 299</a></span> +therefore excuse my addressing this letter, with all +the little details of my concert, to you. My mother, +and sisters, were desirous to hear them, but I was +anxious to say how eagerly I hope for a few lines +from you. Pray let me have them. It is a long +time since you wrote to me!</p> + +<p>My concert took place yesterday, and was much +more brilliant and successful than I expected. The +affair went off well, and with much spirit. The +orchestra played admirably, and the receipts for +the benefit of the poor will be large. A few days +after my former letter, I attended a general rehearsal, +where the whole band were assembled, and in +addition to the official invitation the orchestra had +received, I was obliged to invite them verbally in a +polite speech, in the theatre. This, to me, was the +most trying part of the whole concert; still I did +not object to it, for I really wished to know the +sensations of a man who gives a concert, and this +ceremony forms part of it. I stationed myself therefore +at the prompter's box, and addressed the performers +very courteously, who took off their hats, +and when my speech was finished, there was a +general murmur of assent. On the following day +there were upwards of seventy signatures to the +circular. Immediately afterwards, I had the pleasure +of finding that the chorus singers had sent +one of their leaders to me, to ask if I had not composed +some chorus that I should like to be sung, in +which case, they would all be happy to sing it +<em>gratis</em>. Although I had decided not to give more +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_300"> 300</a></span> +than three pieces of my composition, still the offer +was very gratifying, and the hearty sympathy especially +delighted me, for even the regimental musicians +whom I had to engage for the English horns +and trumpets, positively refused to accept a single +kreuzer, and we had above eighty performers in the +orchestra.</p> + +<p>Then came all the tiresome minor arrangements +about advertisements, tickets, preliminary rehearsals, +etc., and in addition to all this, it was the week of +the October festival. In Munich the days and hours +always glide past so very rapidly, that when they are +gone, it really seems as if they had never been, and +this is more peculiarly the case during this October +festival. Every afternoon about three o'clock you +repair to the spacious, green "Theresien Wiese," +which is swarming with people, and it is impossible +to get away till the evening, for every one finds +acquaintances without end, and something to talk +about, or to look at; a fat ox, target-shooting, a +race, or pretty girls in gold and silver caps, etc. +Any affair you are engaged in, can be concluded +there, for the whole town is congregated on the +meadow, and not till the mists begin to rise, does +the crowd disperse, and return towards the "Frauen +Thürme." The people are in constant motion, running +about in all directions, while the snowy mountains +in the distance look clear and tranquil, each +day giving promise of a bright morrow, and fulfilling +that promise; and, what after all is the chief thing, +none but careless happy faces to be seen, with the +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_301"> 301</a></span> +occasional exception perhaps of a few Deputies, +drinking coffee in the open air, and discussing the +lamentable condition of the people,—while the +people themselves are standing round them looking +as happy as possible. On the first day the King +distributes the prizes himself, taking off his hat to +each winner of a prize, and giving his hand to the +peasants, or laying hold of their arms and shaking +them; now I think this all very proper, as here externally +at least society appears more blended, but +whether it sinks deep into the heart, we can discuss +together at some future time. I adhere to my first +opinion; at all events it is so far well, that the +absurd restraints of etiquette should not be too +strictly observed outwardly, and so it is always +something gained.</p> + +<p>My first rehearsal took place early on Saturday. +We had about thirty-two violins, six double-basses, +and double sets of wind instruments, etc.: but, +Heaven knows why, the rehearsal went badly; I +was forced to rehearse my symphony in C minor +alone for two hours. My concerto did not go at all +satisfactorily. We had only time to play over the +"Midsummer Night's Dream" once, and even then +so hurriedly, that I wished to withdraw it from the +bills; but Bärmann would not hear of this, and assured +me that they would do it better next time. I +therefore was forced to wait in considerable anxiety +for the next rehearsal: in the meantime there was +happily a great ball on Sunday evening, which was +very enjoyable, so I recovered my spirits, and arrived +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_302"> 302</a></span> +next morning at the general rehearsal in high good +humour, and with perfect confidence. I started off +at once with the overture; we played it over again +and again, till at last it went well, and we did the +same with my concerto, so that the whole rehearsal +was quite satisfactory.</p> + +<p>On my way to the concert at night, when I heard +the rattling of the carriages, I began to feel real +pleasure in the whole affair. The Court arrived at +half-past six. I took up my little English <em>bâton</em>, and +conducted my symphony. The orchestra played +magnificently, and with a degree of fire and enthusiasm +that I never heard equalled under my +direction; they all crashed in at the <em>forte</em>, and the +<em>scherzo</em> was most light and delicate; it seemed to +please the audience exceedingly, and the King was +always the first to applaud. Then my fat friend, +Breiting, sang the air in A flat major from "Euryanthe," +and the public shouted "Da capo!" and +were in good humour, and showed good taste. +Breiting was delighted, so he sang with spirit, and +quite beautifully. Then came my concerto; I was +received with long and loud applause; the orchestra +accompanied me well, and the composition had also +its merits, and gave much satisfaction to the audience; +they wished to recall me, in order to give me +another round of applause, according to the prevailing +fashion here, but I was modest, and would +not appear. Between the parts the King got hold +of me, and praised me highly, asking all sorts of +questions, and whether I was related to the Bartholdy +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_303"> 303</a></span> +in Rome, to whose house he was in the habit of +going, because it was the cradle of modern art, +etc.<a name="FNanchor_24" id="FNanchor_24" href="#Footnote_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a></p> + +<p>The second part commenced with the "Midsummer +Night's Dream," which went admirably, and +excited a great sensation; then Bärmann played, +and after that we had the finale in A major from +Lodoiska. I however did not hear either of these, +as I was resting and cooling in the anteroom. +When I appeared to extemporize, I was again enthusiastically +received. The King had given me +the theme of "Non più andrai," on which I was to +<em>improviser</em>. My former opinion is now fully confirmed, +that it is an absurdity to extemporize in +public. I have seldom felt so like a fool as when I +took my place at the piano, to present to the public +the fruits of my inspiration; but the audience were +quite contented, and there was no end of their +applause. They called me forward again, and the +Queen said all that was courteous; but I was +annoyed, for I was far from being satisfied with myself, +and I am resolved never again to extemporize +in public,—it is both an abuse and an absurdity.</p> + +<p>So this is an account of my concert of the 17th, +which is now among the things of the past. There +were eleven hundred people present, so the poor +may well be satisfied: but enough of all this. Farewell! +May every happiness attend you all!</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_304"> 304</a></span></p> + +<h3>Paris, December 19th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>Dear Father,</p> + +<p>Receive my hearty thanks for your letter of the +7th. Though I do not quite apprehend your meaning +on some points, and also may differ from you, still I +have no doubt that this will come all right when we +talk things over together, especially if you permit +me, as you have always hitherto done, to express +my opinion in a straight-forward manner. I allude +chiefly to your suggestion, that I should procure a +libretto for an opera from some French poet, and +then have it translated, and compose the music for +the Munich stage.<a name="FNanchor_25" id="FNanchor_25" href="#Footnote_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a></p> + +<p>Above all, I must tell you how sincerely I regret +that you have only now made known to me your +views on this subject. I went to Düsseldorf, as you +know, expressly to consult with Immermann on the +point. I found him ready, and willing; he accepted +the proposal, promising to send me the poem by the +end of May at the latest, so I do not myself see how +it is possible for me now to draw back; indeed I do +not wish it, as I place entire confidence in him. I +do not in the least understand what you allude to +in your last letter, about Immermann, and his incapacity +to write an opera. Although I by no +means agree with you in this opinion, still it would +have been my duty to have settled nothing without +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_305"> 305</a></span> +your express sanction, and I could have arranged +the affair by letter from here, I believed however +that I was acting quite to your satisfaction when I +made him my offer. In addition to this, some new +poems that he read to me, convinced me more than +ever that he was a true poet, and supposing that I +had an equal choice in merit, I would always decide +rather in favour of a German than a French libretto; +and lastly, he has fixed on a subject which has been +long in my thoughts, and which, if I am not mistaken, +my mother wished to see made into an opera,—I +mean Shakspeare's "Tempest". I was therefore +particularly pleased with this, so I shall doubly regret +if you do not approve of what I have done. In +any event, however, I entreat that you will neither +be displeased with me, nor distrustful with regard to +the work, nor cease to take any interest in it.</p> + +<p>From what I know of Immermann, I feel assured +I may expect a first-rate libretto. What I alluded +to about his solitary life, merely referred to his inward +feelings and perceptions; for in other respects +he is well acquainted with what is passing in the +world. He knows what people like, and what to +give them; but above all he is a genuine artist, +which is the chief thing; but I am sure I need not +say that I will not compose music for any words I do +not consider really good, or which do not inspire me, +and for this purpose it is essential that I should +have your approval. I intend to reflect deeply on +the poem before I begin the music. The dramatic +interest or (in the best sense) the theatrical portion, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_306"> 306</a></span> +I shall of course immediately communicate to you, +and in short look on the affair in the serious light it +deserves. The first step however is taken, and I +cannot tell you how deeply I should regret your not +being pleased.</p> + +<p>There is however one thing which consoles me, +and it is that if I were to rely on my own judgment, +I would again act precisely as I have now done, +though I have had an opportunity of becoming acquainted +with a great deal of French poetry, and +seeing it in the most favourable light. Pray pardon +me for saying exactly what I think. To compose +for the translation of a French libretto, seems to me +for various reasons impracticable, and I have an idea +that you are in favour of it more on account of the +<em>success</em> which it is likely to enjoy than for its own +<em>intrinsic merit</em>. Moreover I well remember how +much you disliked the subject of the "Muette de +Portici," a <em>Muette</em> too who had gone astray, and of +"Wilhelm Tell," which the author seems almost +purposely to have rendered tedious.</p> + +<p>The success however these enjoy all over Germany +does not assuredly depend on the work itself +being either good or dramatic, for "Tell" is neither, +but on their coming from Paris, and having pleased +there. Certainly there is <em>one</em> sure road to fame in +Germany,—that by Paris and London; still it is +not the only one; this is proved not only by all +Weber's works, but also by those of Spohr, whose +"Faust" is here considered classical music, and +which is to be given at the great Opera-house in +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_307"> 307</a></span> +London next season. Besides, I could not possibly +take that course, as my great opera has been bespoken +for Munich, and I have accepted the commission. +I am resolved therefore to make the +attempt in Germany, and to remain and work there +so long as I can continue to do so, and yet maintain +myself, for this I consider my first duty. If I find +that I cannot do this, then I must leave it for +London or Paris, where it is easier to get on. I +see indeed where I should be better remunerated +and more honoured, and live more gaily, and at +my ease, than in Germany, where a man must press +forward, and toil, and take no rest,—still, if I can +succeed there, I prefer the latter.</p> + +<p>None of the new libretti here, would in my opinion +be attended with any success whatever, if brought +out for the first time on a German stage. One of +the distinctive characteristics of them all, is precisely +of a nature that I should resolutely oppose, +although the taste of the present day may demand +it, and I quite admit that it may in general be more +prudent to go with the current than to struggle +against it. I allude to that of immorality. In +"Robert le Diable" the nuns come one after the +other to allure the hero of the piece, till at last the +abbess succeeds in doing so: the same hero is conveyed +by magic into the apartment of her whom he +loves, and casts her from him in an attitude which +the public here applauds, and probably all Germany +will do the same; she then implores his mercy in a +grand aria. In another opera a young girl divests +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_308"> 308</a></span> +herself of her garments, and sings a song to the +effect that next day at this time she will be married; +all this produces effect, but I have no music for +such things. I consider it ignoble, so if the present +epoch exacts this style, and considers it indispensable, +then I will write oratorios.</p> + +<p>Another strong reason why it would prove impracticable +is that no French poet would undertake to +furnish me with a poem. Indeed, it is no easy +matter to procure one from them for this stage, for +all the best authors are overwhelmed with commissions. +At the same time I think it quite possible +that I might succeed in getting one; still it never +would occur to any of them to write a libretto for a +<em>German</em> theatre. In the first place it would be +much more feasible to give the opera here, and +infinitely more rational too; in the second place, +they would decline writing for any other stage than +the French; in fact they could not realize any other. +Above all it would be impossible to procure for them +a sum equivalent to what they receive here from the +theatres, and what they draw as their share from the +<em>part d'auteur</em>.</p> + +<p>I know you will forgive me for having told you +my opinion without reserve. You always allowed +me to do so in conversation, so I hope you will not +put a wrong construction on what I have written, +and I beg you will amend my views by communicating +your own.—Your</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_309"> 309</a></span></p> + +<h3>Paris, December 20th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>Dear Rebecca,</p> + +<p>I went yesterday to the Chambre des Députés, +and I must now tell you about it; but what do you +care about the Chambre des Députés? It is a political +song, and you would rather hear whether I +have composed any love songs, or bridal songs, or +wedding songs; but it is a sad pity, that no songs +but political ones are composed here. I believe I +never in my life passed three such unmusical weeks +as these. I feel as if I never could again think of +composing; this all arises from the "juste milieu;" +but it is still worse to be with musicians, for they do +not <em>wrangle</em> about politics, but <em>lament</em> over them. +One has lost his place, another his title, a third his +money, and they say this all proceeds from the +"Milieu."</p> + +<p>Yesterday I saw the "Milieu," in a light grey +coat, and with a noble air, in the first place on the +Ministerial bench. He was sharply attacked by +M. Mauguin, who has a very long nose. Of course +you don't care for all this; but what of that? I +must have a chat with you. In Italy I was lazy, in +Switzerland a wild student, in Munich a consumer +of cheese and beer, and so in Paris I must talk +politics. I intended to have composed various symphonies, +and to have written some songs for certain +ladies in Frankfort, Düsseldorf, and Berlin; but as +yet not a chance of it. Paris obtrudes herself, and +as above all things I must now see Paris, so I am +busily engaged in seeing it, and am dumb.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_310"> 310</a></span> +Moreover I am freezing with cold—another drawback. +I cannot contrive to make my room warm, +and I am not to get another and warmer apartment, +till New Year's Day. In a dark little hole on the +ground floor, overlooking a small damp garden, +where my feet are like ice, how can I possibly write +music? It is bitterly cold, and an Italian like myself +is peculiarly susceptible. At this moment a +man outside my window is singing a political song +to a guitar.</p> + +<p>I live a reckless life—out morning, noon, and +night: to-day at Baillot's; to-morrow I go to some +friends of the Bigots; the next day, Valentin; +Monday, Fould; Tuesday, Hiller; Wednesday, Gérard; +and the previous week it was just the same. +In the forenoon I rush off to the Louvre, and gaze at +the Raphaels, and my favourite Titian; a person +might well wish for a dozen more eyes to look at +such a picture.</p> + +<p>Yesterday I was in the Chamber of Peers, who +were engaged in pronouncing judgment on their own +hereditary rights, and I saw M. Pasquier's wig. The +day before I paid two musical visits, to the grumbling +Cherubini, and the kind Herz. There is a large +sign-board before the house: "Manufacture de +Pianos, par Henri Herz, Marchand de Modes et de +Nouveautés." I thought this formed one, not observing +that it was a notice of two different firms, so +I went in below, and found myself surrounded by +gauze, and lace, and trimmings: so, rather abashed, +I asked where the pianos were. A number of Herz's +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_311"> 311</a></span> +fair scholars with industrious faces, were waiting +upstairs. I sat down by the fire and read your +interesting account of our dear father's birthday, +and so forth. Herz presently arrived, and gave +audience to his pupils. We were very loving, recalled +old times, and besprinkled each other mutually +with great praise. On his pianos is inscribed: +"Médaille d'or. Exposition de 1827." This was +very imposing.</p> + +<p>From thence I went to Erard's, where I tried over +his instruments, and remarked written on them in +large letters: "Médaille d'or. Exposition de 1827." +My respect seemed to diminish. When I went home +I opened my own instrument by Pleyel, and to be +sure there also I saw in large letters: "Médaille d'or. +Exposition de 1827." The matter is like the title +of "Hofrath," but it is characteristic. It is alleged +that the chambers are about to discuss the following +proposition: "Tous les Français du sexe masculin +ont dès leur naissance le droit de porter l'ordre de +la Légion d'Honneur," and the permission to appear +without the order, can only be obtained by special +services. You really scarcely see a man in the +street without a bit of coloured ribbon, so it is no +longer a distinction.</p> + +<p><em>Apropos</em>, shall I be lithographed full length? +Answer what you will, I don't intend to do it. One +afternoon in Berlin, when I was standing <em>unter den +Linden</em> before Schenk's shop looking at H——'s +and W——'s lithographs, I made a solemn vow to +myself, unheard by man, that I would never allow +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_312"> 312</a></span> +myself to be hung up till I became a great man. +The temptation in Munich was strong; there they +wished to drape me with a Carbonaro cloak, a stormy +sky in the background, and my fac-simile underneath, +but I happily got off by adhering to my principles. +Here again I am rather tempted, for the likenesses +are very striking, but I keep my vow; and if, after +all, I never do become a great man, though posterity +will be deprived of a portrait, it will have an absurdity +the less.</p> + +<p>It is now the 24th, and we had a very pleasant +evening at Baillot's yesterday. He plays beautifully, +and had collected a very musical society of attentive +ladies and enthusiastic gentlemen, and I have seldom +been so well amused in any circle, or enjoyed such +honours. It was the greatest possible delight to me +to hear my quartett in E flat major (dedicated to B. +P.) performed in Paris by Baillot's quartett, and +they executed it with fire and spirit. They commenced +with a quintett by Bocherini, an old-fashioned +<em>perruque</em>, but a very amiable old gentleman underneath +it. The company then asked for a sonata of +Bach's; we selected the one in A major; old familiar +tones dawned once more on me, of the time when +Baillot played it with Madame Bigot.<a name="FNanchor_26" id="FNanchor_26" href="#Footnote_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> We urged +each other on, the affair became animated, and so +thoroughly amused both us and our audience, that +we immediately commenced the one in E major, and +next time we mean to introduce the four others.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_313"> 313</a></span> +Then my turn came to play a solo. I was in the +vein to extemporize successfully, and felt that I did +so. The guests being now in a graver mood, I took +three themes from the previous sonatas, and worked +them up to my heart's content; it seemed to give +immense pleasure to those present, for they shouted +and applauded like mad. Then Baillot gave my +quartett; his manner towards me has something +very kind, and I was doubly pleased, as he is rather +cold at first and seldom makes advances to any +one. He appears a good deal depressed by the loss +of his situation. I saw a number of old well-known +faces, and they asked after you all, and recalled +many anecdotes of that former period.</p> + +<p>When I was passing through Louvain two years +ago with my "Liederspiel" in my head, and my +injured knee,<a name="FNanchor_27" id="FNanchor_27" href="#Footnote_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> I seized the brass handle of a pump +to prevent myself from falling; and when I returned +this year in the same miserable diligence, driven by +a postilion exactly similar, with a big queue, the +"Liederspiel," my knee, and Italy, were all things +of the past; and yet the handle of the pump was +still hanging there, as clean and brightly rubbed up +as ever, having survived 1830, and all the revolutionary +storms, and remaining quite unchanged. +This is sentimental; my father must not read it, for +it is the old story of the past and the present, which +we discussed so eagerly one fine evening, and which +recurs to me among the crowd here at every step. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_314"> 314</a></span> +I thought of it at the Madeleine, and when I went to +aunt J——'s, and at the Hôtel des Princes, and at +the gallery, which my father showed me fifteen years +ago, and when I saw the coloured signs, which at +that time impressed me exceedingly, and are now +grown brown and shabby.</p> + +<p>Moreover this is Christmas Eve; but I feel little +interest in it, or in New Year's Night either. Please +God, another year may wear a very different aspect, +and I will not then go to the theatre on Christmas +Eve, as I am about to do to-night, to hear Lablache +and Rossini for the first time. How little I care +about it! I should much prefer <em>Polichinelles</em> and +apples to-day, and I think it very doubtful whether +the orchestra will play as pretty a symphony as my +"Kinder-Sinfonie."<a name="FNanchor_28" id="FNanchor_28" href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> I must be satisfied with it +however. I am now modulating into the minor key, +a fault with which the "École Allemande" are often +reproached, and as I profess not to belong to the +latter, the French say I am <em>cosmopolite</em>. Heaven +defend me from being anything of the kind!</p> + +<p>And now good-bye; a thousand compliments from +Bertin de Vaux, Girod de l'Ain, Dupont de l'Eure, +Tracy, Sacy, Passy and other kind friends. I had +intended to have told you in this letter how Salverte +attacked the Ministers, and how during this time a +little <em>émeute</em> took place on the Pont Neuf; how I +sat in the Chambers along with Franck, in the midst +of St. Simoniens; how witty Dupin was; but no +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_315"> 315</a></span> +more at present. May you all be well and happy +this evening, and thinking of me!</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Paris, December 28th, 1831.</h3> + +<p>Dear Madam Fanny,</p> + +<p>For three months past I have been thinking of +writing you a musical letter, but my procrastination +has its revenge, for though I have been a fortnight +here, I don't know whether I shall still be able to do +so. I have appeared in every possible mood here; +in that of an inquiring, admiring traveller; a coxcomb; +a Frenchman, and yesterday actually as a +Peer of France; but not yet as a musician. Indeed +there is little likelihood of the latter, for the aspect +of music here is miserable enough.</p> + +<p>The concerts in the Conservatoire, which were my +great object, probably will not take place at all, because +the Commission of the Ministry wished to give +a Commission to the Commission of the society, to +deprive a Commission of Professors of their share of +the profits; on which the Commission of the Conservatoire +replied to the Commission of the Ministry, +that they might go and be hanged (suspended), and +then they would not consent to it. The newspapers +make some very severe comments on this, but you +need not read them, as these papers are prohibited +in Berlin; but you don't lose much by this. The +Opéra Comique is bankrupt, and so it has had +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_316"> 316</a></span> +<em>relâche</em> since I came; at the Grand Opéra, they +only give little operas, which amuse me, though +they neither provoke nor excite me. "Armida" was +the last great opera, but they gave it in three acts, +and this was two years ago. Choron's "Institut" +is closed, the "Chapelle Royale" is gone out like a +light; not a single Mass is to be heard on Sundays +in all Paris, unless accompanied by serpents. Malibran +is to appear here next week for the last time. +So much the better, say you: retire within yourself, +and write music for "Ach Gott vom Himmel," or a +symphony, or the new violin quartett which you +mentioned in your letter to me of the 28th, or any +other serious composition; but this is even more +impossible, for what is going on here is most deeply +interesting, and entices you out, suggesting matter +for thought and memory and absorbing every moment +of time. Accordingly I was yesterday in the +Chambre des Pairs, and counted along with them +the votes, destined to abolish a very ancient privilege; +immediately afterwards I hurried off to the +Théâtre Français, where Mars was to appear for +the first time for a year past; (she is fascinating +beyond conception; a voice that we shall never hear +equalled, causing you to weep, and yet to feel pleasure +in doing so). To-day I must see Taglioni again, +who along with Mars constitutes two Graces (if I +find a third in my travels, I mean to marry her), +and afterwards I mean to go to Gérard's classical +<em>salon</em>. I lately went to hear Lablache and Rubini, +after hearing Odillon Barrot quarrel with the Ministry. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_317"> 317</a></span> +Having seen the pictures in the Louvre in the +morning, I went to Baillot's; so what chance is there +of living in retirement? The outer world is too +tempting.</p> + +<p>There are moments, however, when my thoughts +turn inwards—such as on that memorable evening, +when Lablache sang so beautifully, or on Christmas-day, +when there were no bells and no festivities, or +when Paul's letter came from London, inviting me +to visit him next spring; the said spring to be +passed in England. Then I feel that all that now +interests me is merely superficial: that I am neither +a politician, nor a dancer, nor an actor, nor a <em>bel +esprit</em>, but a <em>musician</em>—so I take courage, and am +now writing a professional letter to my dear sister.</p> + +<p>My conscience smote me, especially when I read +about your new music that you so carefully conducted +on my father's birthday, and I reproached +myself for not having said a single word to you +about your previous composition; but I cannot let +you off that, my colleague! What the deuce made +you think of setting your G horns so high? Did +you ever hear a G horn take the high G without a +squeak? I only put this to yourself! and at the +end of this introduction, when wind instruments +come in, does not the following note</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/335.jpg" width="50" height="23" alt="music334a" /></div> +<div class="center">[<a href="music/335a.mid">Listen</a>]</div> +<p>stare you in the face, and do not these deep oboes +growl away all pastoral feeling, and all bloom? Do +you not know that you ought to take out a license +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_318"> 318</a></span> +to sanction your writing the low B for oboes, and +that it is only permitted on particular occasions, +such as witches, or some great grief? Has not the +composer evidently, in the A major air, overloaded +the voice by too many other parts, so that the delicate +intention, and the lovely melody of this otherwise +charming piece, with all its beauties, is quite +obscured and eclipsed?</p> + +<p>To speak seriously, however, this aria is very +beautiful, and particularly fascinating. But I have +a remark to make about your two choruses, which +indeed applies rather to the text than to you. These +two choruses are not sufficiently original. This +sounds absurd; but my opinion is that it is the fault +of the words, that express nothing original; one +single expression might have improved the whole, but +as they now stand, they would be equally suitable for +church music, a cantata, an offertorium, etc. Where, +however, they are not of such universal application, +as for example, the lament at the end, they seem to +be sentimental and not natural. The words of the +last chorus are too material ("mit dem kraftlosen +Mund, und der sich regenden Zunge"). At the +beginning of the aria alone, are the words vigorous +and spirited, and from them emanated the whole of +your lovely piece of music. The choruses are of +course fine, for they are written by you; but in the +first place, it seems to me that they might be by any +other good master, and secondly, as if they were not +<em>necessarily</em> what they are, indeed as if they might +have been <em>differently</em> composed. This arises from +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_319"> 319</a></span> +the poetry not imposing any particular music. I +know that the latter is often the case with my own +compositions; but though I am fully aware of the +beam in my own eyes, I would fain extract the mote +from yours, to relieve you at once from its pressure.</p> + +<p>My <em>résumé</em> therefore is, that I would advise you +to be more cautious in the choice of your words, +because, after all, it is not everything in the Bible, +even if it suits the theme, that is suggestive of +<em>music</em>; but you have probably obviated these objections +of mine in your new cantata, before being +aware of them, in which case, I might as well have +said nothing. So much the better if it be so, and +then you can prosecute me for defamation! So far +as your music and composition are concerned, they +quite suit my taste; the young lady's cloven foot +nowhere peeps forth, and if I knew any <em>Kapellmeister</em> +capable of writing such music, I would give him a +place at my court. Fortunately I know no such +person, and there is no occasion to place you at my +right hand at court, as you are there already.<a name="FNanchor_29" id="FNanchor_29" href="#Footnote_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a></p> + +<p>When do you mean to send me something new to +cheer me? Pray do so soon! As far as regards +myself, shortly after my arrival here, I had one of +those attacks of musical spleen, when all music, and +more especially one's own, becomes actually hateful. +I felt thoroughly unmusical, and did nothing but eat +and sleep, and that revived me. F——, to whom I +complained of my state, instantly constructed a +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_320"> 320</a></span> +musical theory on the subject, proving that it could +not be otherwise; I however think exactly the +reverse; but though we are so entirely dissimilar, +and have as many differences as a Bushman and +Caffre, still we like each other exceedingly.</p> + +<p>With L——, too, I get on famously. He is very +pleasing, and the most <em>dilettante</em> of all the <em>dilettanti</em> +I ever met. He knows everything by heart, and +plays wrong basses to them all; he is only deficient +in arrogance, for with all his undeniable +talent, he is very modest and retiring. I am much +with him, because he is a benevolent, kind-hearted +man; we should thoroughly agree on all points, if +he would not consider me a <em>doctrinaire</em>, and persist +in talking politics (a subject that I wish to avoid +for at least a hundred and twenty reasons; and +chiefly because I don't in the least understand it); +besides, he delights in hitting at Germany, and in +depreciating London in favour of Paris. Both these +things are prejudicial to my <em>constitution</em>, and whoever +assails that, I must defend it and dispute with +him.</p> + +<p>I was yesterday studying your new music, and +enjoying it, when Kalkbrenner came in, and played +various new compositions. The man is become +quite romantic, purloins themes, ideas, and similar +trifles, from Hiller, writes pieces in F sharp minor, +practises every day for several hours, and is as he +always was, a knowing fellow. Every time I see +him, he inquires after "my charming sister, whom +he likes so much, and who has such a fine talent for +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_321"> 321</a></span> +playing and composing." My invariable reply is, +that she has not given up music, that she is very industrious, +and that I love her very much; which is +all true. And now farewell, dear sister. May you +be well and happy, and may we meet at the New +Year.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<p class="smcap">To Carl Immermann in Düsseldorf.</p> + +<h3>Paris, January 11th, 1832.</h3> + +<p>You permitted me to give you occasional tidings +of myself, and since I came here, I have daily intended +to do so; the excitement here is however so +great, that till to-day I have never been able to write. +When I contrast this constant whirl and commotion, +and the thousand distractions among a foreign +people, with your house in the garden, and your +warm winter room, your wish to exchange with me +and to come here in my place, often recurs to me, +and I almost wish I had taken you at your word. +You must indeed in that case have remained all the +same in your winter room, so that I might come out +to you through the snow, take my usual place in the +corner, and listen to the "Schwanritter;" for there +is more life in it than in all the tumult here.</p> + +<p>In a word, I rejoice at the prospect of my return +to Germany; everything there is indeed on a small +scale, and homely, if you will, but <em>men</em> live there; +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_322"> 322</a></span> +men who know what art really is, who do not admire, +nor praise, in fact who do not <em>criticize</em>, but <em>create</em>. +You do not admit this, but it is only because you are +yourself among the number.</p> + +<p>I beg you will not however think that I am like +one of those German youths with long hair, lounging +about listlessly, and pronouncing the French superficial, +and Paris frivolous. I only say all this because +I now thoroughly enjoy and admire Paris, and am +becoming better acquainted with it, and especially +as I am writing to you in Düsseldorf. I have, on the +contrary, cast myself headlong into the vortex, and +do nothing the whole day but see new objects, the +Chambers of Peers and Deputies, pictures and theatres, +dio- neo- cosmo- and panoramas, constant parties, +etc. Moreover, the musicians here are as numerous +as the sands on the sea-shore, all hating each other; +so each must be individually visited, and wary diplomacy +is advisable, for they are all gossips, and what +one says to another, the whole corps know next +morning.</p> + +<p>The days have thus flown past hitherto as if only +half as long as they were in reality, and as yet I have +not been able to compose a single bar; in a few days, +however, this exotic life will cease. My head is now +dizzy from all I have seen and wondered at; but I +then intend to collect my thoughts, and set to work, +when I shall feel once more happy and domesticated.</p> + +<p>My chief pleasure is going to the little theatres in +the evening, because there French life and the +French people are truly mirrored; the "Gymnase +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_323"> 323</a></span> +Dramatique" is my particular favourite, where +nothing is given but small <em>vaudevilles</em>. The extreme +bitterness and deep animosity which pervade +all these little comedies, are most remarkable, and +although partially cloaked by the prettiest phrases, +and the most lively acting, become only the more +conspicuous. Politics everywhere play the chief +part, which might have sufficed to make me dislike +these theatres, for we have enough of them <em>elsewhere</em>; +but the politics of the "Gymnase" are of a +light and ironical description,—referring to the occurrences +of the day, and to the newspapers, in order +to excite laughter and applause, and at last you +can't help laughing and applauding with the rest. +Politics and sensuality are the two grand points of +interest, round which everything circles; and in the +many pieces I have seen, an attack on the Ministry, +and a scene of seduction, were never absent.</p> + +<p>The whole style of the <em>vaudeville</em>, introducing +certain conventional music at the end of the scene +in every piece, when the actors partly sing and +partly declaim some couplets with a witty point, is +thoroughly French; we could never learn this, nor +in fact wish to do so, for this mode of connecting +the wit of the day with an established <em>refrain</em>, does +not exist in our conversation, nor in our ideas. I +cannot imagine anything more striking and effective, +nor yet more prosaic.</p> + +<p>A great sensation has been recently caused here, +by a new piece at the Gymnase, "Le Luthier de +Lisbonne," which forms the delight of the public. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_324"> 324</a></span> +A stranger is announced in the play-bills; scarcely +does he appear when all the audience begin to laugh +and to applaud, and you learn that the actor is a +close imitation of Don Miguel, in gestures, manner, +and costume; he proceeds to announce that he is a +king, and the fortune of the piece is made. The +more stupid, uncivilized, and uncouth, the Unknown +appears, the greater is the enjoyment of the public, +who allow none of his gestures or speeches to pass unobserved. +He takes refuge from a riot in the house +of this instrument maker, who is the most devoted +of all royalists, but unluckily the husband of a very +pretty woman. One of Don Miguel's favourites has +forced her to grant him a rendezvous for the ensuing +night, and he begs the king—who arrives at this +moment—to give him his aid, by causing the husband +to be beheaded. Don Miguel replies, "Très volontiers," +and while the Luthier recognizes him, and +falls at his feet, beside himself from joy, Don Miguel +signs his death-warrant, but also that of his favourite, +whom he means to replace with the pretty woman. +At each enormity that he commits, we laugh and +applaud, and are immensely delighted with this +stupid stage Don Miguel. So ends the first act. +In the second, it is supposed to be midnight; the +pretty wife alone and agitated. Don Miguel jumps +in at the window, and does all in his power to gain +her favour, making her dance and sing to him, but +she cannot endure him, and falls at his feet, imploring +him to spare her; on which he seizes her, +and drags her repeatedly round the stage, and if she +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_325"> 325</a></span> +did not make a snatch at a knife, and then a sudden +knocking ensue, she might have been in a bad plight; +at the close, the worthy Luthier rescues the king +from the hands of the French soldiery, who are just +arrived, and of whose valour, and love of liberty, he +has a great horror. So the piece ends happily.</p> + +<p>A little comedy followed, where the wife betrays +her husband, and has a lover; and another, where +the man is faithless to his wife, and is maintained by +his mistress; this is succeeded by a satire on the +new constructions in the Tuileries, and on the Ministry, +and so it goes on.</p> + +<p>I cannot say how it may be at the French Opera, +for it is bankrupt, so there has been no acting there +since I came. In the Académie Royale, however, +Meyerbeer's "Robert le Diable" is played every +night with great success; the house is always +crowded, and the music has given general satisfaction. +There is an expenditure of all possible means +of producing stage effect, that I never saw equalled +on any stage. All who can sing, dance, or act in +Paris, sing, dance, and act on this occasion.</p> + +<p>The <em>sujet</em> is romantic; that is, the devil appears +in the piece—(this is quite sufficient romance and +imagination for the Parisians). It is however very +bad; and were it not for two brilliant scenes of +seduction it would produce no effect whatever. +The devil is a poor devil, and appears in armour, +for the purpose of leading astray his son Robert, a +Norman knight, who loves a Sicilian princess. He +succeeds in inducing him to stake his money and all +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_326"> 326</a></span> +his personal property (that is, his sword) at dice, +and then makes him commit sacrilege, giving him a +magic branch, which enables him to penetrate into +the Princess's apartment, and renders him irresistible. +The son does all this with apparent willingness; +but when at the end he is to assign himself to his +father, who declares that he loves him, and cannot +live without him, the devil, or rather the poet +Scribe, introduces a peasant girl, who has in her +possession the will of Robert's deceased mother, +and reads him the document, which makes him +doubt the story he has been told; so the devil is +obliged to sink down through a trap-door at midnight, +with his purpose unfulfilled, on which Robert +marries the Princess, and the peasant girl, it seems, +is intended to represent the principle of good. The +devil is called Bertram.</p> + +<p>I cannot imagine how any music could be composed +on such a cold, formal <em>extravaganza</em> as this, +and so the opera does not satisfy me. It is throughout +frigid and heartless; and where this is the case +it produces no effect on me. The people extol the +music, but where warmth and truth are wanting, I +have no test to apply.</p> + +<p>Michael Beer set off to-day for Havre. It seems +he intends to compose poetry there; and I now remember +that when I met you one day at Schadow's, +and maintained that he was no poet, your rejoinder +was, "That is a matter of taste." I seldom see +Heine, because he is entirely absorbed in liberal +ideas and in politics. He has recently published +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_327"> 327</a></span> +sixty "Frühlings Lieder." Very few of them seem +to me either genuine or truthful, but these few are +indeed inimitable. Have you read them? They +appeared in the second volume of the "Reisebilder." +Börne intends to publish some new volumes of letters: +he and I are full of enthusiasm for Malibran +and Taglioni; all these gentlemen are abusing and +reviling Germany and all that is German, and yet +they cannot speak even tolerable French; I think +this rather provoking.</p> + +<p>Pray excuse my having sent you so much gossip, +and for writing to you on such a disreputable margin +of paper; but it is long since we met; and as for a +time I could see you every day, it has become quite +a necessity to write to you; so you must not take it +amiss. You once promised to send me a few lines +in reply: I don't know whether I may venture to +remind you of this, but I should really be glad to +hear how you pass your time, and what novelty a +certain cupboard in the corner contains; how you +get on with "Merlin," and my "Schwanritter," the +sound of which still vibrates in my ears like sweet +music; and also whether you sometimes think of me, +and of next May, and "The Tempest." It is certainly +expecting a good deal to ask you for an early +reply to my letter, but I fear that you had enough +of the first, and would rather not receive a second; +therefore I take courage, and beg for an answer +to this one. But I need not have asked this, for +you usually guess my wishes before I can utter +them; and if you are as kindly disposed towards +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_328"> 328</a></span> +me now as you were then, you will fulfil this desire +of mine as you did all the others.—Yours,</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> +<h3>Paris, January 14th, 1832.</h3> + +<p>I now first begin to feel at home here, and really +to know Paris; it is indeed the most singular and +amusing place imaginable; but for one who is no +politician, it does not possess so much interest. So +I have become a <em>doctrinaire</em>. I read my newspaper +every morning, form my own opinion about peace +and war, and, only among friends, confess that I +know nothing of the matter.</p> + +<p>This is however not the case with F——, who is +completely absorbed in the vortex of dilettantism and +dogmatism, and really believes himself quite adapted +to be a Minister. It is a sad pity, for nothing good +will ever come of it. He has sufficient sense to be +always occupied, but not enough to conduct any +affair. He is a <em>dilettante</em> on all points, and has a +clever knack of criticizing others, but he produces +nothing. We continue on the same intimate terms, +meeting every day, and liking each other's society, +but inwardly we remain strangers. I suspect that +he writes for the public papers; he is very much +with Heine, and chatters abuse against Germany +like a magpie; all this I much dislike, and as I +really have a sincere regard for him, it worries me. +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_329"> 329</a></span> +I suppose I must try to become accustomed to it, +but it is really too sad to know where a person is +deficient, and yet to be unable to remedy their +defects. Moreover he grows visibly older; so this +irregular, unoccupied life is the less suitable for +him.</p> + +<p>A—— has left his parents' house, and gone to the +Rue Monsigny,<a name="FNanchor_30" id="FNanchor_30" href="#Footnote_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> where body and soul are equally +engrossed. I have in my possession an appeal +to mankind from P—— in which he makes his confession +of faith, and invites every one to surrender +a share of his property, however small, to the St. +Simoniens; calling on all artists to devote their +genius in future to this religion; to compose better +music than Rossini or Beethoven; to build temples +of peace, and to paint like Raphael or David. I have +twenty copies of this pamphlet, which P—— desired +me, dear Father, to send to you. I rest satisfied by +sending you <em>one</em>, which you will find quite enough, +and even that one, by some private hand of course.</p> + +<p>It is a bad sign of the state of the public mind +here, that such a monstrous doctrine, in such detestable +prose, should ever have existed, or impressed +others; for it appears that the students of the Polytechnic +School take considerable interest in it. It +is difficult to say how far it may be carried, when +there is temptation offered on every side, promising +honour to one, fame to another; to me, an admiring +public, and to the poor, money; while by their cold +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_330"> 330</a></span> +estimate of talent, they check all effort, and all +progress. And then their ideas as to universal +brotherhood, their disbelief in hell, and the devil, +and eternal perdition, and of the annihilation of all +egotism,—ideas, which in our country spring from +nature, and prevail in every part of Christendom, +and without which I should not wish to live, but +which they however regard as a new invention and +discovery, constantly repeating that they mean to +transform the world, and to render mankind happy. +A—— coolly tells me that he does not require to +improve himself, but others only; because he is not +at all imperfect, but on the contrary, perfect. They +not only praise and compliment each other, but all +those whom they wish to gain over; extolling any +talent or capability you may possess, and lamenting +that such great powers should be lost, by adhering +to the old-fashioned notions of duty, vocation, and +action, as they were formerly interpreted. When I +listen to all this, it does seem to me a melancholy +mystification. I attended a meeting last Sunday, +where all the Fathers sat in a circle: then came +the principal Father and demanded their reports, +praising and blaming them, addressing the assembly, +and issuing his commands; to me it was quite awful! +A—— has completely renounced his parents, and +lives with the Fathers, his disciples, and is endeavouring +to procure a loan for their benefit; but +enough of this subject!</p> + +<p>A Pole gives a concert next week, where I am to +play in a composition for six performers, along with +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_331"> 331</a></span> +Kalkbrenner, Hiller, and Co.; do not be surprised +therefore if you see my name mutilated, as in the +"Messager" lately, when the death of Professor +Flegel (Hegel) was announced from Berlin, and all +the papers copied it.</p> + +<p>I have set to work again, and live most agreeably. +I have not yet been able to write to you about the +theatres, although they occupy me very much. How +plain are the symptoms of bitterness and excitement +even in the most insignificant farce; how invariably +everything bears a reference to politics; how completely +what is called the Romantic School has +infected all the Parisians, for they think of nothing +on the stage now but the plague, the gallows, the +devil, etc., one striving to outstrip the other in +horrors, and in liberalism; in the midst of these +<em>misères</em> and fooleries, how charming is a talent like +that of Léontine Fay, who is the perfection of grace +and fascination, and remains unsullied by the absurdities +she is compelled to utter and to act. How +strange all these contrasts are! but this I reserve +for future discussion.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Paris, January 21st, 1832.</h3> + +<p>In every letter of yours I receive a little hit, because +my answers are not very punctual, and so I +reply without delay to your questions, dear Fanny, +with regard to the new works that I am about to +publish.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_332"> 332</a></span> +It occurred to me that the octett and the quintett +might make a very good appearance among my +works, being in fact better than many compositions +that already figure there. As the publication of +these pieces costs me nothing, but, on the contrary, +I derive profit from them, and not wishing to confuse +their chronological order, my idea is to publish the +following pieces at Easter:—quintett and octett +(the latter also arranged as a duet), "Midsummer +Night's Dream," seven songs without words, six +songs with words; on my return to Germany, six +pieces of sacred music, and finally, if I can get +any one to print it, and to pay for it, the symphony +in D minor. As soon as I have performed "Meeresstille" +at my concert in Berlin, it will also appear. +I cannot however bring out "The Hebrides" here, +because, as I wrote to you at the time, I do not +consider it finished; the middle movement forte in +D major is very stupid, and the whole modulations +savour more of counterpoint, than of train oil and +seagulls and salt fish—and it ought to be exactly +the reverse. I like the piece too well to allow it to +be performed in an imperfect state, and I hope +soon to be able to work at it, and to have it ready +for England, and the Michaelmas fair at Leipzig.</p> + +<p>You inquire also why I do not compose the Italian +symphony in A major. Because I am composing the +Saxon overture in A minor, which is to precede the +"Walpurgis Night," that the work may be played +with all due honour at the said Berlin concert, and +elsewhere.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_333"> 333</a></span> +You wish me to remove to the Marais, and to +write the whole day. My dear child, that would +never do; I have, at the most, only the prospect of +three months to see Paris, so I must throw myself +into the stream; indeed, this is why I came; everything +here is too bright, and too attractive to be +neglected; it rounds off my pleasant travelling +reminiscences, and forms a fine colossal key-stone, +and so I consider that to see Paris is at this moment +my chief vocation. The publishers too are standing +on each side of me like veritable Satans, demanding +music for the piano, and offering to pay for it. By +Heavens! I don't know whether I shall be able to +withstand this, or write some kind of trio; for I hope +you believe me to be superior to the temptation of a +<em>pot-pourri</em>; but I should like to compose a couple +of good trios.</p> + +<p>On Thursday the first rehearsal of my overture +takes place, which is to be performed in the second +concert at the "Conservatoire." In the third my +symphony in D minor is to follow. Habeneck talks +of seven or eight rehearsals, which will be very welcome +to me. Moreover I am also to play something +at Erard's concert; so I shall play my Munich concerto, +but I must first practise it well. Then, a note +is lying beside me, "Le Président du Conseil, Ministre +de l'Intérieur, et Madame Casimir Périer +prient," etc., on Monday evening to a ball; this +evening there is to be music at Habeneck's; to-morrow +at Schlesinger's; Tuesday, the first public <em>soirée</em> +at Baillot's; on Wednesday, Hiller plays his Concerto +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_334"> 334</a></span> +in the Hôtel de Ville, and this always lasts till +past midnight. Let those who like it, lead a solitary +life! these are all things that cannot be refused. So +when am I to compose? In the forenoon? Yesterday, +first Hiller came, then Kalkbrenner, then Habeneck. +The day before that, came Baillot, Eichthal, +and Rodrigues. Perhaps very early in the morning? +Well, I do compose then—so you are confuted!</p> + +<p>P—— was with me yesterday, talking St. Simonienism, +and either from a conviction of my stupidity, +or my shrewdness, he made me disclosures which +shocked me so much, that I resolved never again to +go either to him or to his confederates. Early this +morning Hiller rushed in, and told me he had just +witnessed the arrest of the St. Simoniens. He wished +to hear their orations; but the Fathers did not +come. All of a sudden soldiers made their way in, +and requested those present to disperse as quickly +as possible, inasmuch as M. Enfantin and the others +had been arrested in the Rue Monsigny. A party +of National Guards are placed in the street, and +other soldiers marched up there; everything is +sealed up, and now the <em>procès</em> will begin. My B +minor quartett, which is lying in the Rue Monsigny, +is also sealed up. The adagio alone is in the style +of the "juste Milieu," all the other parts <em>mouvement</em>. +I suppose I shall eventually be obliged to +play it before a jury.</p> + +<p>I was lately standing beside the Abbé Bardin at +a large party, listening to the performance of my +quartett in A minor. At the last movement my +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_335"> 335</a></span> +neighbour pulled my coat, and said: "Il a cela dans +une de ses sinfonies." "Qui?" said I, rather embarrassed. +"Beethoven, l'auteur de ce quatuor," said +he, with a consequential air. This was a very +doubtful compliment! but is it not famous that my +quartett should be played in the classes of the +Conservatoire, and that the pupils there are practising +off their fingers to play "Ist es wahr?"</p> + +<p>I have just come from St. Sulpice, where the +organist showed off his organ to me; it sounded +like a full chorus of old women's voices; but they +maintain that it is the finest organ in Europe if it +were only put into proper order, which would cost +thirty thousand francs. The effect of the <em>canto +fermo</em>, accompanied by a serpent, those who have +not heard it could scarcely conceive, and clumsy +bells are ringing all the time.</p> + +<p>The post is going, so I must conclude my gossip, +or I might go on in this manner till the day after +to-morrow. I have not yet told you that Bach's +"Passion" is announced for performance in London, +at Easter, in the Italian Opera House.—Yours,</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Paris, February 4th, 1832.</h3> + +<p>You will, I am sure, excuse my writing you only +a few words to-day: it was but yesterday that I +heard of my irreparable loss.<a name="FNanchor_31" id="FNanchor_31" href="#Footnote_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> Many hopes, and a +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_336"> 336</a></span> +pleasant bright period of my life have departed with +him, and I never again can feel so happy. I must +now set about forming new plans, and building fresh +castles in the air; the former ones are irrevocably +gone, for he was interwoven with them all. I shall +never be able to think of my boyish days, nor of the +ensuing ones, without connecting him with them, and +I had hoped, till now, that it might be the same for +the future. I must endeavour to inure myself to +this, but I can recall no one thing without being +reminded of him; I shall never hear music, or write +it, without thinking of him; all this makes the rending +asunder of such a tie doubly distressing. The +former epoch has now wholly passed away, but not +only do I lose that, but also the man I so sincerely +loved. If I never had any especial reason for loving +him, or if I no longer had such reasons, I must +have loved him all the same, even without a reason. +He loved me too, and the knowledge that there was +such a man in the world—one on whom you could +repose, and who lived to love you, and whose wishes +and aims were identical with your own—this is all +over: it is the most severe blow I have ever received, +and never can I forget him.</p> + +<p>This was the celebration of my birthday. When +I was listening to Baillot on Tuesday, and said to +Hiller that I only knew one man who could play the +music I loved for me, L—— was standing beside me, +and knew what had happened, but did not give me +the letter. He was not aware indeed that yesterday +was my birthday, but he broke it to me by degrees +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_337"> 337</a></span> +yesterday morning, and then I recalled previous +anniversaries, and took a review of the past, as every +one should on his birthday; I remembered how invariably +on this day he arrived with some special gift +which he had long thought of, and which was always +as pleasing and agreeable and welcome as himself. +The day was a melancholy one to me: I could neither +do anything, nor think of anything, but the one +subject.</p> + +<p>To-day I have compelled myself to work, and succeeded. +My overture in A minor is finished. I think +of writing some pieces here, which will be well remunerated.</p> + +<p>I beg you will tell me every particular about him, +and every detail, no matter how trifling; it will be a +comfort to me to hear of him once more. The octett +parts, so neatly copied by him, are lying before me +at this moment, and remind me of him. I hope +shortly to recover my usual equanimity, and to be +able to write to you in better spirits and more at +length. A new chapter in my life has begun, but +as yet it has no title. Your</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> +<h3>Paris, February 13th, 1832.</h3> + +<p>I am now leading a quiet, pleasant life here; +neither my present frame of mind, nor the pleasures +of society, tempt me to enter into gaiety. Here, and +indeed everywhere else, society is uninteresting, and +not improving, and owing to the late hours, monopolizing +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_338"> 338</a></span> +a great deal of time. I do not refuse, however, +when there is to be good music. I will write all +particulars to Zelter of the first concert in the Conservatoire. +The performers there play quite admirably, +and in so finished a style, that it is indeed a +pleasure to hear them; they delight in it themselves, +and each takes the greatest possible trouble; the +leader is an energetic, experienced musician, so they +cannot fail to go well together.</p> + +<p>To-morrow my A minor quartett is to be performed +in public. Cherubini says of Beethoven's +later music, "Ça me fait éternuer," and so I think it +probable that the whole public will sneeze to-morrow. +The performers are Baillot, Sauzay, Urhan, and +Norblin—the best here.</p> + +<p>My overture in A minor is completed; it represents +bad weather. A few days ago I finished an introduction, +where it thaws, and spring arrives; I have +counted the sheets of the "Walpurgis Night," revised +the seven numbers a little, and then boldly +written underneath—Milan, July; Paris, February. +I think it will please you. I must now write an +adagio for my quintett without delay; the performers +are calling loudly for one, and they are right.</p> + +<p>I do wish you could hear a rehearsal of my "Midsummer +Night's Dream" at the Conservatoire, where +they play it most beautifully. It is not yet certain +whether it will be ready by next Sunday; there are +to be two more rehearsals before then, but as yet it +has only been twice played over. I think however +that it will do, and I would rather it was given on +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_339"> 339</a></span> +Sunday than at the third concert, because I am to +play on behalf of the poor on the 26th (something of +Weber's), and on the 27th at Erard's concert (my +Munich Concerto), and at other places, and I should +like my composition to appear first at the "Conservatoire." +I am also to play there, and the members +are anxious that I should give them a Sonata of +Beethoven's; it may seem bold, but I prefer his Concerto +in G major, which is quite unknown here.</p> + +<p>I look forward with the utmost delight to the +symphony in D minor, which is to be rehearsed next +week; I certainly never dreamt that I should hear it +in Paris for the first time.</p> + +<p>I often visit the theatre, where I see a great display +of wit and talent, but a degree of immorality +that almost exceeds belief. It is supposed that no +lady can go to the "Gymnase"—still they do go. +Depict me to yourself as reading "Notre Dame," +dining with one or other of my acquaintances every +day, and taking advantage of the lovely bright +spring weather after three o'clock, to take a walk, +and to pay a few visits, and to look at the gaily-dressed +ladies and gentlemen in the splendid gardens +of the Tuileries—then you will have my day in Paris. +Adieu.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Paris, February 21st, 1832.</h3> + +<p>Almost every letter that I receive from you now +announces some sad loss. Yesterday I got the one +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_340"> 340</a></span> +in which you tell me about poor U——, whom I +shall no longer find with you; so this is not a time +for idle talk; I feel that I must work, and strive to +make progress.</p> + +<p>I have composed a grand adagio as an intermezzo +for the quintett. It is called "Nachruf," and it +occurred to me, as I had to compose something for +Baillot, who plays so beautifully, and is so kindly +disposed towards me, and who wishes to perform it +in public; and yet he is only a recent acquaintance. +Two days ago my overture to the "Midsummer +Night's Dream" was given for the first time at a +concert in the Conservatoire. It caused me great +pleasure, for it went admirably, and seemed also to +please the audience. It is to be repeated at one of +the ensuing concerts, and my symphony, which has +been rather delayed on this account, is to be rehearsed +on Friday or Saturday. In the fourth or +fifth concert, I am to play Beethoven's Concerto in +G major.</p> + +<p>The musicians are all amazement at the honours +conferred on me by the Conservatoire. They played +my A minor quartett wonderfully last Tuesday, with +such fire and precision, that it was delightful to +listen to them, and as I can never again hear Ritz, +I shall probably never hear it better given. It appeared +to make a great impression on the audience, +and at the scherzo they were quite uproarious.</p> + +<p>It is now high time, dear father, to write you a +few words with regard to my travelling plans, and +on this occasion in a more serious strain than usual, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_341"> 341</a></span> +for many reasons. I must first, in taking a general +view of the past, refer to what you designed to be +the chief object of my journey; desiring me strictly +to adhere to it. I was closely to examine the +various countries, and to fix on the one where I +wished to live and to work; I was further to make +known my name and capabilities, in order that the +people, among whom I resolved to settle, should +receive me well, and not be wholly ignorant of my +career; and, finally, I was to take advantage of my +own good fortune, and your kindness, to press +forward in my subsequent efforts. It is a happy +feeling to be able to say, that I believe this has +been the case.</p> + +<p>Always excepting those mistakes which are not +discovered till too late, I think I have fulfilled the +appointed object. People now know that I exist, +and that I have a purpose, and any talent that I +display, they are ready to approve and to accept. +They have <em>made advances</em> to me here, and <em>proposed</em> +to take my music, which they seldom do; as all the +others, even Onslow, have been obliged to <em>offer</em> their +compositions. The London Philharmonic have requested +me to perform something new of my own +there on the 10th of March. I also got the commission +from Munich without taking any step whatever +to obtain it, and indeed not till <em>after</em> my concert. +It is my intention to give a concert here (if possible) +and certainly in London in April, if the cholera +does not prevent my going there; and this on my +own account, in order to make money; I hope, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_342"> 342</a></span> +therefore, I may say that I have also fulfilled this +part of your wish—that I should make myself known +to the public before returning to you.</p> + +<p>Your injunction, too, to make choice of the country +that I preferred to live in, I have equally performed, +at least in a general point of view. That country is +Germany. This is a point on which I have now +quite made up my mind. I cannot yet, however, +decide on the particular city, for the most important +of all, which for various reasons has so many attractions +for me. I have not yet thought of in this light—I +allude to Berlin. On my return, therefore, I must +ascertain whether I can remain and establish myself +there, according to my views and wishes, after having +seen and enjoyed other places.</p> + +<p>This is also why I do not endeavour to get the +commission for an opera here. If I compose really +good music, which in these days is indispensable, it +will both be understood and valued in Germany. +(This has been the case with all the good operas +there.) If I compose indifferent music, it will be +quickly forgotten in Germany, but here it would +be often performed and extolled, and sent to Germany, +and given there on the authority of Paris, as +we daily see. But I do not choose this; and if I am +not capable of composing good music, I have no +wish to be praised for it. So I shall first try Germany; +and if things go so badly that I can no longer +live there, I can then have recourse to some foreign +country. Besides, few German theatres are so bad +or in so dilapidated a condition as the Opéra Comique +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_343"> 343</a></span> +here. One bankruptcy succeeds another. When +Cherubini is asked why he does not allow his operas +to be given there, he replies, "Je ne sais pas donner +des opéras, sans chœur, sans orchestre, sans chanteurs, +et sans décorations." The Grand Opéra has +bespoken operas for years to come, so there is no +chance of anything being accepted by it for the +next three or four years.</p> + +<p>In the meantime therefore I intend to return to +you to write my "Tempest," and to see how it succeeds. +The plan, therefore, dear father, that I +wish to lay before you is this—to remain here till +the end of March, or the beginning of April, (the +invitation to the Philharmonic for the 10th of March, +I have of course declined, or rather postponed,) then +to go to London for a couple of months. If the +Rhenish musical festival takes place, to which I am +summoned, I shall go to Düsseldorf; and if not, return +direct to you by the shortest road, and be by +your side in the garden soon after Whitsunday. +Farewell!</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Paris, March 15th, 1832.</h3> + +<p>Dear Mother,</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/361.jpg" width="300" height="109" alt="music361a" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/361a.mid">Listen</a>]</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_344"> 344</a></span> +This is the 15th of March, 1832. May every happiness +and good attend you on this day. You prefer +<em>receiving</em> my letter on your birthday, to its being +written on the day itself; but forgive me for saying +that I cannot reconcile myself to this. My father +said that no one could tell what might occur subsequently, +therefore the letter ought to arrive on the +anniversary of the day; but then I have this feeling +in <em>double</em> measure, as I neither in that case know +what is to occur to <em>you</em> on that day, nor to <em>myself</em>; +but if your birthday be actually arrived, then +I almost feel as if I were beside you, though you +cannot hear my congratulations; but I can then +send them to you, without any other solicitude than +that of absence. This too will soon be over, please +God. May He preserve you, and all at home, happily +to me!</p> + +<p>I have now begun to throw myself in right earnest +into a musical life, and as I know this must be satisfactory +to you, I will write some details; for a letter +and a sketch-book that I wished to send you some +days ago by Mortier's aide-de-camp, are still waiting, +like all Paris, for the departure of the Marshal, +which does not however take place. If the letter +and the book do eventually reach you through this +man, pray give a kind reception to the whole consignment, +but especially to the man (Count Perthuis), +for he is one of the most friendly and amiable +persons I ever met with.</p> + +<p>I had told you in that letter, that I am to play +Beethoven's Concerto in G major two days hence, +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_345"> 345</a></span> +in the Conservatoire, and that the whole Court are +to be present for the first time at the concert. +K—— is ready to poison me from envy; he at first +tried by a thousand intrigues to prevent my playing +altogether, and when he heard that the Queen was +actually coming, the did everything in his power to +get me out of the way. Happily all the other members +of the Conservatoire, the all-powerful Habeneck +in particular, are my faithful allies, and so he signally +failed. He is the only musician here who acts unkindly +and hypocritically towards me; and though I +never placed much confidence in him, still it is always +a very painful sensation to know that you are in the +society of a person who hates you, but is careful not +to show it.</p> + +<h3>The 17th.</h3> + +<p>I could not finish this letter, because during the +last few days the incessant music I told you of, has +been so overwhelming, that I really scarcely knew +which way to turn. A mere catalogue therefore of +all I have done, and have still to do, must suffice for +to-day, and at the same time plead my excuse.</p> + +<p>I have just come back from a rehearsal at the +Conservatoire. We rehearsed steadily; twice yesterday, +and to-day almost everything repeated, but +now all goes swimmingly. If the audience to-morrow +are only half as enchanted as the orchestra to-day, +we shall do well; for they shouted loudly for +the adagio <em>da capo</em>, and Habeneck made them a +little speech, to point out to them that at the close +there was a solo bar, which they must be so good as +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_346"> 346</a></span> +to wait for. You would be gratified to see all the +little kindnesses and courtesies the latter shows me. +At the end of each movement of the symphony, he +asks me if there is anything I do not approve of, so +I have been able for the first time, to introduce into +the French orchestra some favourite <em>nuances</em> of +my own.</p> + +<p>After the rehearsal Baillot played my octett in his +class, and if any man in the world can play it, he is +the man. His performance was finer than I ever +heard it, and so was that of Urhan, Norblin, and the +others, who all attacked the piece with the most +ardent energy and spirit.</p> + +<p>Besides all this, I must finish the arrangement of +the overture and the octett, and revise the quintett, +as Simrock has bought it. I must write out +"Lieder," and enjoy the author's delight of working +up my B minor quartett, for it is to be brought out +here by two different publishers, who have requested +me to make some alterations before it is published. +Finally, I have <em>soirées</em> every evening. To-night +Bohrer's; to-morrow a fête, with all the violin +<em>gamins</em> of the Conservatoire; next day, Rothschild; +Tuesday, the Société des Beaux-Arts; Wednesday +my octett at the Abbé Bardin's; Thursday my octett +at Madame Kiéné's; Friday, a concert at Érard's; +Sunday, a concert at Léo's; and lastly, on Monday—laugh +if you choose—my octett is to be performed +in a church, at a funeral Mass in commemoration of +Beethoven. This is the strangest thing the world +ever yet saw, but I could not refuse, and I in some +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_347"> 347</a></span> +degree enjoy the thoughts of being present, when +Low Mass is read during the scherzo. I can +scarcely imagine anything more absurd than a +priest at the altar and my scherzo going on. It is +like travelling <em>incognito</em>. Last of all Baillot gives +a grand concert on the 7th of April, and so I have +promised him to remain here till then, and to play +a Concerto of Mozart's for him, and some other +piece.</p> + +<p>On the 8th I take my place in the diligence, and +set off to London, but before doing so I shall have +heard my symphony in the Conservatoire, and sold +various pieces, and shall leave this, rejoicing in the +friendly reception I have met with from the musicians +here.—Farewell!</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>Paris, March 31st, 1832.</h3> + +<p>Pray forgive my long silence, but I had nothing +cheering to communicate, and am always very unwilling +to write gloomy letters. Indeed, this being +the case, I had better still have remained silent, +for I am in anything but a gay mood. But now +that we have the spectre here,<a name="FNanchor_32" id="FNanchor_32" href="#Footnote_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> I mean to write to +you regularly, that you may know that I am well, +and pursuing my work.</p> + +<p>The sad news of Goethe's loss makes me feel poor +indeed! What a blow to the country! It is another +of those mournful events connected with my stay +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_348"> 348</a></span> +here, which will always recur to my mind at the +very name of Paris; and not all the kindness I have +received, nor the tumult and excitement, nor the +life and gaiety here, can ever efface this impression. +May it please God to preserve me from still worse +tidings, and grant us all a happy meeting; this is +the chief thing!</p> + +<p>Various circumstances have induced me to delay +my departure from here for at least a fortnight,—that +is, till the middle of April; and the idea of my +concert has begun to revive in my mind; I mean to +accomplish it too, if the cholera does not deter +people from musical, or any other kind of réunions. +We shall know this in the course of a week, and in +any case I must remain here till then. I believe +however that everything will go on in the usual +regular course, and "Figaro" prove to be in the +right, who wrote an article called "Enfoncé le +choléra," in which he says that Paris is the grave of +all reputations, for no one there ever admired anything; +yawning at Paganini (he does not seem to +please much this time), and not even looking round +in the street at an Emperor or a Dey; so possibly +this malady might also lose its formidable reputation +there.</p> + +<p>Count Perthuis has no doubt told you of my +playing at the Conservatoire. The French say that +it was <em>un beau succès</em>, and the audience were pleased. +The Queen, too, sent me all sorts of fine compliments +on the subject. On Saturday I am again to +play twice in public. My octett, in church on Monday +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_349"> 349</a></span> +last, exceeded in absurdity anything the world +ever saw or heard of. While the priest was officiating +at the altar during the scherzo, it really sounded +like "Fliegenschnauz und Mückennas, verfluchte +Dilettanten." The people however considered it +very fine sacred music.</p> + +<p>I am indeed delighted, dear Father, that my quartett +in B minor pleases you; it is a favourite of +mine, and I like to play it, although the adagio is +much too cloying; still, the scherzo that follows has +all the more effect. I can see that you seem rather +inclined to deride my A minor quartett, when you +say that there is a piece of instrumental music which +has made you rack your brains to discover the composer's +thoughts; when, in fact, he probably had no +thoughts at all. I must defend the work, for I love +it; but it certainly depends very much on the way +in which it is executed, and one single musician who +could perform it with zeal and sympathy, as Taubert +did, would make a vast difference.—Your</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<p class="center smcap">Extract from a letter from London.</p> + +<h3>London, April 27th, 1832.</h3> + +<p>I wish I could only describe how happy I feel to +be here once more; how much I like everything, +and how gratified I am by the kindness of old +friends; but as it is all going on at this moment, I +must be brief for to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_350"> 350</a></span> +I have also a number of people to seek out whom +I have not yet seen, whilst I have been living with +Klingemann, Rosen, and Moscheles, in as close intimacy +as if we had never been parted. They form +the nucleus of my present sojourn; we see each +other every day; it is such a pleasure to me to be +once more with good, earnest men, and true friends, +with whom I do not require to be on my guard, nor +to study them either. Moscheles and his wife show +me a degree of touching kindness, which I value the +more as my regard for them increases; and then the +feeling of restored health, as if I lived afresh, and +had come anew into this world—all these are combined.<a name="FNanchor_33" id="FNanchor_33" href="#Footnote_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a></p> + +<h3>May 11th.</h3> + +<p>I cannot describe to you the happiness of these +first weeks here. As from time to time every evil +seems to accumulate, as it did during my winter in +Paris, where I lost some of my most beloved friends, +and never felt at home, and at last became very ill; +so the reverse sometimes occurs, and thus it is in +this charming country, where I am once more +amongst friends, and am well, and among well-wishers, +and enjoy in the fullest measure the sensation +of returning health. Moreover it is warm, the +lilacs are in bloom, and music is going on: only +imagine how pleasant all this is!</p> + +<p>I must really describe one happy morning last +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_351"> 351</a></span> +week: of all the flattering demonstrations I have +hitherto received, it is the one which has most +touched and affected me, and perhaps the only one +which I shall always recall with fresh pleasure. +There was a rehearsal last Saturday at the Philharmonic, +where however nothing of mine was given, +my overture not being yet written out. After "Beethoven's +Pastoral Symphony," during which I was +in a box, I wished to go into the room to talk to +some old friends; scarcely, however, had I gone +down below, when one of the orchestra called out, +"There is Mendelssohn!" on which they all began +shouting, and clapping their hands to such a degree, +that for a time I really did not know what to do; +and when this was over, another called out "Welcome +to him!" on which the same uproar recommenced, +and I was obliged to cross the room, and to +clamber into the orchestra and return thanks.</p> + +<p>Never can I forget it, for it was more precious to +me than any distinction, as it showed me that the +<em>musicians</em> loved me, and rejoiced at my coming, and +I cannot tell you what a glad feeling this was.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + +<h3>May 18th.</h3> + +<p>Dear Father,</p> + +<p>I have received your letter of the 9th; God grant +that Zelter may by this time be safe, and out of +danger! You say indeed that he already is so, but +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_352"> 352</a></span> +I shall anxiously expect your next letter, to see the +news of his recovery confirmed. I have dreaded +this ever since Goethe's death, but when it actually +occurs, it is a very different thing. May Heaven +avert it!</p> + +<p>Pray tell me also what your mean by saying "there +is no doubt that Zelter both wishes, and requires, to +have you with him, because, at all events for the +present, it is quite impossible for him to carry on +the Academy, whence it is evident that if you do not +undertake it, another must." Has Zelter expressed +this wish to you, or do you only imagine that he entertains +it? If the former were the case, I would +instantly, on receiving your reply, write to Zelter, +and offer him every service in my power, of every +kind, and try to relieve him from all his labours, for +as long a period as he desired; and this it certainly +would be my duty to do.</p> + +<p>I intended to have written to Lichtenstein before +my return about the proposal formerly made to me,<a name="FNanchor_34" id="FNanchor_34" href="#Footnote_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> +but of course I have given up all thoughts of doing +so at present; for on no account would I assume +that Zelter could not resume his duties, and even in +that event, I could not reconcile myself to discuss +the matter with any one but himself; every other +mode of proceeding I should consider unfair towards +him. If however he requires my services, I am +ready, and shall rejoice if I can be of any use to him, +but still more so, if he does not want me, and is entirely +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_353"> 353</a></span> +recovered. I beg you will write me a few +words on this subject.</p> + +<p>I must now inform you of my plans and engagements +till I leave this. Yesterday I finished the +"Rondeau brillant," and I am to play it this day +week at Mori's evening concert. The day after I +rehearse my Munich Concerto at the Philharmonic, +and play it on Monday the 28th at their concert; on +the 1st of June Moscheles' concert, where, with him, +I play a Concerto of Mozart's for two pianos, and +conduct my two overtures, "The Hebrides" and +"The Midsummer Night's Dream." Finally, the +last Philharmonic is on the 11th, where I am to +conduct some piece.</p> + +<p>I must finish the arrangement for Cramer, and +some "Lieder" for the piano, also some songs with +English words, besides some German ones for myself, +for after all it is spring, and the lilacs are in +bloom. Last Monday "The Hebrides" was given +for the first time in the Philharmonic; it went admirably, +and sounded very quaint among a variety +of Rossini pieces. The audience received both me +and my work with extreme kindness. This evening +is Mr. Vaughan's concert; but I am sure you must +be quite sick of hearing of so many concerts, so I +conclude.</p> + +<h3>Norwood, Surrey, May 25th.</h3> + +<p>These are hard times, and many are laid low!<a name="FNanchor_35" id="FNanchor_35" href="#Footnote_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> +May it please God to preserve you all to me, and +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_354"> 354</a></span> +to grant us a joyful meeting! You will receive this +letter from the same villa whence I wrote to you +three years ago last November, just before my +return.</p> + +<p>I have now come out here for a few days to rest, +and to collect my thoughts, just as I did at that +time, on account of my health. All is unchanged +here; my room is precisely the same; even the music +in the old cupboard stands exactly in the same spot; +the people are quite as considerate, and quiet, and +attentive as formerly, and the three years have +passed over both them and their house, as peacefully +as if half the world had not been uprooted during +that period.</p> + +<p>It is pleasant to see; the only difference is, that we +have now gay spring, and apple-blossoms, and lilacs, +and all kinds of flowers, whereas at that time we +had autumn, with its fogs and blazing fires; but how +much is now gone for ever, that we then still had; +this gives much food for thought. Just as at that +time I wrote to you saying little, save "farewell till +we meet;" so must it be to-day also. It will indeed +be a graver meeting, and I bring no "Liederspiel" +with me composed in this room, as the former one +was, but God grant I may only find you all well.</p> + +<p>You write, dear Fanny, that I ought especially to +hasten my return, in order if possible to secure the +situation in the Academy; but this I do not choose +to do. I shall return as soon as I can, because my +father writes that he wishes me to do so; I therefore +intend to set off in about a fortnight, but solely for +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_355"> 355</a></span> +<em>that</em> reason; the other motive would rather tend to +detain me here, indeed, if any motive could do so; +for I will in no manner solicit the situation.</p> + +<p>When I reminded my father formerly of the proposal +of the Director, the reason which he then +advanced against it, seemed to me perfectly just; he +said that he regarded this place rather as a sinecure +for more advanced years, "when the Academy might +be resorted to as a harbour of refuge." For the +next few years I aspire as little to <em>this</em> as to any +other situation; my purpose is to live by the fruits +of my labours, just as I do here, and my resolve is +to be independent. Considering the peculiar position +of the Academy, the small salary they give, and +the great influence they might exercise, the place of +Director seems to me only an honourable post, which +I have no desire to <em>sue</em> for. If they were to offer it +to me, I would accept it, because I promised formerly +to do so; but only for a settled time and on certain +conditions; and if they do not intend to offer it, +then my presence can be of no possible use. I do +not certainly require to convince them of my capability +for the office, and I neither will, nor can, +intrigue. Besides, for the reasons I mentioned in a +previous letter, I cannot leave England till after the +11th, and the affair will no doubt be decided before +that time.</p> + +<p>I beg that no step of any kind may be taken on +my behalf, except <em>that</em> which my father mentioned +concerning my immediate return; but nothing in +the smallest degree approaching to solicitation; and +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_356"> 356</a></span> +when they do make their choice, I only hope that +they may find a man who will perform his duties +with as much zeal as old Zelter.</p> + +<p>I received the intelligence in the morning just as +I was going to write to him; then came a rehearsal +of my new piece for the piano, with its wild gaiety, +and when the musicians were applauding and complimenting +me, I could not help feeling strongly, +that I was indeed in a foreign land. I then came +here, where I found both men and places unchanged; +but Hauser unexpectedly arrived, and we fell into +each other's arms, and recalled the happy days we +had enjoyed together in South Germany the previous +autumn, and all that has passed away for ever, +during the last six months. Your mournful news +was always present to me in its sad reality—so this +is the manner in which I have spent the last few +days here. Forgive me for not being able to write +properly to-day. I go to town this evening to play, +and also to-morrow, Sunday, and Monday.</p> + +<p>I have now a favour to ask of you, dear Father, in +reference to the cantatas of Sebastian Bach, which +Zelter possessed. If you can possibly prevent their +being disposed of before my return, pray do so, for +I am most anxious at any price to see the entire +collection before it is dispersed.</p> + +<p>I might have told you of many agreeable things +that have occurred to me during the last few weeks, +for every day brings me fresh proofs that the people +like me, and are glad to associate with me; which is +gratifying, and makes my life here easy and pleasant; +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_357"> 357</a></span> +but to-day I really cannot. Perhaps in my next +letter my spirits may be sufficiently restored, to +return to my usual narrative style.</p> + +<p>Many remembrances from the Moscheles; they +are excellent people, and after so long an interval, +it is most cheering once more to meet an artist, +who is not a victim to envy, jealousy, or miserable +egotism. He makes continued and steady progress +in his art.</p> + +<p>The warm sun is shining out-of-doors, so I shall +now go down into the garden, to perform some +gymnastics there, and to smell the lilacs; this will +show you that I am well.</p> + +<h3>London, June 1st.</h3> + +<p>On the day that I received the news of Zelter's +death, I thought that I should have had a serious +illness, and indeed during the whole of the ensuing +week I could not shake off this feeling. My manifold +engagements however have now diverted my +thoughts, and brought me to myself, or rather out +of myself. I am well again, and very busy.</p> + +<p>First of all I must thank you, dear Father, for +your kind letter. It is in a great measure already +answered by my previous one, but I will now repeat +why I decline sending any application to the committee.</p> + +<p>In the first place, I quite agree with your former +opinion, that this situation in the Academy is not +desirable at the outset of my career; indeed I could +only accept it for a certain time, and under particular +conditions, and even then, solely to perform my +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_358"> 358</a></span> +previous promise. If I solicit it, I am bound to +accept the place, as they choose to give it, and to +comply with their conditions as to salary, duties, +etc., though I do not as yet even know what these +are.</p> + +<p>In the second place, the reason they gave you +why I should write, seems to me neither a true nor +a straightforward one. They say they wish to be +certain I will accept of it, and that on this account +I must enroll myself among the candidates; but they +<em>offered</em> it to me three years ago, and Lichtenstein +said they did so to ascertain if I would take it, and +begged me to give a distinct answer on this point; +at that time I said <em>yes</em>, that I was willing to carry it +on, along with Rungenhagen. I am not sure that I +should think the same now; but as I said so then, I +can no longer draw back, and must keep my word. +It is not necessary to repeat my assent, for as I once +gave it, so it must remain; still less can I do so +when I should have to <em>offer</em> myself to them for the +post they once <em>offered to me</em>. If they were disposed +to adhere to their former offer, they would not require +me to take a step which they took themselves +three years ago; on the contrary, they would remember +the assent I then gave, for they must know that +I am incapable of breaking such a promise.</p> + +<p>A confirmation of my former promise is therefore +quite unnecessary, and if they intend to appoint +another to the situation, my letter would not prevent +their doing so. I must further refer to my letter +from Paris, in which I told you that I wished to +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_359"> 359</a></span> +return to Berlin in the spring, as it was the only city +in Germany with which I was still unacquainted.</p> + +<p>This is my well-weighed purpose; I do not know +how I shall get on in Berlin, or whether I shall be +able to remain there,—that is, whether I shall be +able to enjoy the same facilities for work, and progress, +that are offered to me in other places. The +only house that I know in Berlin is our own, and I +feel certain I shall be quite happy there; but I must +also be in a position to be actively employed, and +this I shall discover when I return. I hope that all +will come to pass as I wish, for of course the spot +where <em>you</em> live must be always dearest to me; but +till I know this to a certainty I do not wish to fetter +myself by any situation.</p> + +<p>I conclude, because I have a vast deal to do to +enable me to set off after the next Philharmonic. +I must publish several pieces before I go; I receive +numbers of commissions on all sides, and some +so gratifying that I exceedingly regret not being able +to set to work at once.</p> + +<p>Among others, I this morning got a note from a +publisher, who wishes me to give him the score of +two grand pieces of sacred music, for morning and +evening service; you may imagine how much I am +pleased with this proposal, and immediately on my +arrival in the Leipziger Strasse I intend to begin +them.</p> + +<p>"The Hebrides" I mean to reserve for a time for +myself, before arranging it as a duet; but my new +rondo is in hand, and I must finish those everlasting +<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_360"> 360</a></span> +"Lieder" for the piano, as well as various other +arrangements, and probably the Concerto. I played +it last Monday in the Philharmonic, and I think I +never in my life had such success. The audience +were crazy with delight, and declared it was my +best work.</p> + +<p>I am now going to Moscheles' concert, to conduct +there, and to play Mozart's Concerto, in which I +have inserted two long cadences for each of us.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Felix.</p> + +<hr class="c15 p4" /> +<div class="footnotes"><h2>FOOTNOTES:</h2> +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a></p> +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="line">"Was in der Zeiten Bildersaal</div> +<div class="line">Jemals ist trefflich gewesen,</div> +<div class="line">Das wird immer einer einmal</div> +<div class="line">Wieder auffrischen und lesen."</div> +</div></div></div> + +<p><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Three pieces for the piano, composed in 1829 for the album of +three young English ladies; subsequently published as Opus 16.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_3" id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Felix Mendelssohn attended the Berlin University as a matriculated +student for more than a year; a vast number of sheets +written by him at this period, during the lectures, are still extant.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_4" id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> A relation of the family.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_5" id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Mendelssohn's instructor in the theory of music.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_6" id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> The name of the child.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_7" id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> The violin player, Edward Ritz, an intimate friend of Mendelssohn's.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_8" id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Formerly a singer in the Royal Theatre at Berlin.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_9" id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Afterwards published under the name of "Overture to the +Hebrides."</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_10" id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> A little sketch of the catafalque was enclosed in the letter.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_11" id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> This piece appeared afterwards as Opus 39.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_12" id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Vernet lived in the Villa Medici.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_13" id="Footnote_13" href="#FNanchor_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> This picture is in the Borghese Gallery.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_14" id="Footnote_14" href="#FNanchor_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> On the 3rd of February, 1830, the bands of some regiments in +Berlin gave Mendelssohn a serenade in honour of his birthday.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_15" id="Footnote_15" href="#FNanchor_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> The Prussian Consul-General Bartholdy, who died in Rome, +and was an uncle of Felix Mendelssohn's.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_16" id="Footnote_16" href="#FNanchor_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Some disturbances had in the meantime broken out in the +Ecclesiastical States, at Bologna.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_17" id="Footnote_17" href="#FNanchor_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> The whole family had been in Switzerland in the year 1821.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_18" id="Footnote_18" href="#FNanchor_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> In the 'Titan' of Jean Paul.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_19" id="Footnote_19" href="#FNanchor_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> The overture to the "Midsummer Night's Dream" was composed +by Mendelssohn as early as the year 1826.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_20" id="Footnote_20" href="#FNanchor_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> In the year 1821.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_21" id="Footnote_21" href="#FNanchor_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> In the "Liederheft," Opus 15 of his posthumous works.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_22" id="Footnote_22" href="#FNanchor_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> Ludwig Berger, Mendelssohn's instructor on the piano.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_23" id="Footnote_23" href="#FNanchor_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Mendelssohn jokingly alludes to a poem of <em>Bürger</em>,—Der Abt +von St. Gallen.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_24" id="Footnote_24" href="#FNanchor_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> <em>Vide</em> the letter from <a href="#Rome_February_1st_1831">Rome</a> of the 1st of February, 1831.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_25" id="Footnote_25" href="#FNanchor_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Felix Mendelssohn, during his stay in Munich, received a +commission from the director of the theatre, to write an opera for +Munich.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_26" id="Footnote_26" href="#FNanchor_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> The lady who instructed Mendelssohn in the piano in Paris, +when the family resided there for a time in 1816.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_27" id="Footnote_27" href="#FNanchor_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> Mendelssohn had been thrown out of a cabriolet in London in +1829, and his knee seriously injured.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_28" id="Footnote_28" href="#FNanchor_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> A "Kinder-Sinfonie," composed by Mendelssohn in the year +1829, for a Christmas family fête.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_29" id="Footnote_29" href="#FNanchor_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> A play upon Fanny Hensel's house, in a court—No. 3, Leipziger +Strasse.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_30" id="Footnote_30" href="#FNanchor_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> At that time the residence of the St. Simoniens.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_31" id="Footnote_31" href="#FNanchor_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> The death of his friend Edward Ritz, the violin player.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_32" id="Footnote_32" href="#FNanchor_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> The cholera.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_33" id="Footnote_33" href="#FNanchor_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> Felix Mendelssohn had an attack of cholera during the last +weeks of his stay in Paris.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_34" id="Footnote_34" href="#FNanchor_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> In reference to a situation in the Singacademie.</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_35" id="Footnote_35" href="#FNanchor_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> He had received the news of Zelter's death.</p> + +<hr class="c5" /> + </div> +</div> + +<p class="p2 center small">THE END</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Letters of Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy +from Italy and Switzerland, by Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LETTERS OF FELIX MENDELSSOHN *** + +***** This file should be named 39384-h.htm or 39384-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/3/8/39384/ + +Produced by Hélène de Mink, Bryan Ness, Music transcribed +by Anne Celnick, Linda Cantoni, and the DP Music Team and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive/American +Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> |