Letters of Felix Mendelssohn

Paris, February 21st, 1832.

Almost every letter that I receive from you now announces some sad loss. Yesterday I got the one 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.

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.

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.

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, 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.

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 made advances to me here, and proposed to take my music, which they seldom do; as all the others, even Onslow, have been obliged to offer 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 after 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, 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.

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.

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 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.

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!

Felix.