"At last I must make a start. I wanted to write to you the first week after my visit, but when I thought of what you had entrusted to me, and to which I had done nothing, I felt ashamed; therefore the manuscript[8] became somewhat odious to me. I took it up three or four times, but either some of the sheets—large and small—had got mixed, or I could not make out the abbreviations; and then again I was often interrupted by other work. I was afraid I should have to send it back to you untouched. But yesterday the light suddenly dawned upon me and I understood everything at once—the whole and also the details. I see at the same time that there is still much to be done, and therefore I write at once to-day to ask if you can let me keep the MS. a little longer."
[The letter then goes on to make suggestions for the "text," which it is not necessary to reproduce here.]
To the above communication Mendelssohn replied in a letter which has hitherto been quoted as being the earliest mention of "Elijah" in the Mendelssohn correspondence.
[Mendelssohn to Schubring.]
"Leipzig, November 2, 1838.[9]
"Dear Schubring,—Many, many thanks for your letter, which I received the day before yesterday, and for the parcel, which came to-day. You again render me an essential service, and I feel most grateful to you. How can you ask whether I wish you to proceed in the same way? When all is so well put together, I have almost nothing to do but to write music for the words. I ought to have previously told you that the sheets you took away with you are by no means to be regarded as containing a mature design, but as a mere combination of the materials I had before me for the purpose of eventually forming a plan. So the omission of the passage of the widow, and also of the raven, is decidedly most advisable; and also the abridgment of the whole commencement, in order that the main points may be dwelt upon to one's heart's content. I would urgently entreat you to proceed with your work, so far as your time and leisure will permit, and soon to send me the continuation of the first part, which ought now to be considerable, from where you left off. Rest assured that, as I already told you, you will earn my most sincere gratitude.
"You say that at first you could not make anything of the subject, but that a sudden light dawned upon you. I figured to myself Elijah as a thorough prophet, such as we might again require in our own day—energetic and zealous, but also stern, wrathful, and gloomy; a striking contrast to the court rabble and popular rabble—in fact, in opposition to the whole world, and yet borne on angels' wings. Is this the inference you also draw from the subject, and is this the sense in which you conceived an affection for it? I am most anxious to do full justice to the dramatic element, and, as you say, no epic narrative must be introduced. I am glad to learn that you are searching out the always heart-affecting sense of the Scriptural words; but if I might make one observation, it is that I would fain see the dramatic element more prominent, as well as more exuberant and defined—appeal and rejoinder, question and answer, sudden interruptions, etc., etc. Not that it disturbs me that Elijah, for example, first speaks of assembling the people, then forthwith addresses them—such liberties are the natural privileges of a composition such as an oratorio; but I should like to have the representation itself as spirited as possible; for instance, it annoys me that Elijah does not reply to Ahab's words, No. 16, till No. 18, various other speeches and a chorus intervening. I should like to have had an instant and eager rejoinder, etc., etc.
"But we are no doubt likely to agree about this; and I would only entreat you, when you resume your work, to think of this wish of mine. Above all, accept my thanks for your kindness, and write to me soon on the same subject.—Ever yours,
"Felix M.-B."