Letters of Felix Mendelssohn

Norwood, Surrey, May 25th

These are hard times, and many are laid low! May it please God to preserve you all to me, and 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.

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.

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.

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 that 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.

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 thisas 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 sue 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.

I beg that no step of any kind may be taken on my behalf, except that which my father mentioned concerning my immediate return; but nothing in the smallest degree approaching to solicitation; and 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.

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.

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.

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; but to-day I really cannot. Perhaps in my next letter my spirits may be sufficiently restored, to return to my usual narrative style.

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.

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.