Then to the end thus:—
People vow that this is quite as fine as Thalberg, and even more so. Don’t show this receipt, however, to any one; it is a mystery, like all domestic receipts. When you see Herr v. Zucalmaglio, thank him for his packet and the letter I received from him; at the same time (though this is quite between ourselves) I cannot compose music for the songs he sent me; they are patriotic, and at this moment I have no taste whatever for this style of song,—they might cause a great deal of bad feeling; and in the present state of things, people seem to me to begin to sing against the French, at the very moment when they must know that the French will not fight against them: for such a purpose I have no music. But adieu for the present. I do wish that instead of being obliged to dress, and to go through a vast amount of music, I were going across to you. We could play at “Black Peter,” or some other merry game, and eat cakes.—Your
Felix.
To Carl Klingemann, London.
Leipzig, November 18th, 1840.
My dearest Friend,
I am living here in as entire quiet and solitude as I could possibly desire; my wife and children are well, God be praised! and I have work in abundance; what can any man wish for beyond this? I only long for its continuance, and pray that Heaven may grant it, while I daily rejoice afresh in the peaceful monotony of my life. At the beginning of the winter however, I had some difficulty in avoiding the social gatherings which bloom and thrive here, and which would cause both a sad loss of time and of pleasure if you were to accept them, but now I have pretty well succeeded in getting rid of them. Moreover, this week there is a fast, so we have no subscription concert, which gives us a pleasant domestic season of rest. My “Hymn of Praise” is to be performed the end of this month for the benefit of old invalided musicians. I am determined, however, that it shall not be produced in the imperfect form in which, owing to my illness, it was given in Birmingham, so that makes me work hard. Four new pieces are to be added, and I have also much improved the three sets of symphonies, which are now in the hands of the copyist. As an introduction to the chorus “Die Nacht ist vergangen,” I have found far finer words in the Bible, and admirably adapted to the music. By the bye, you have much to answer for in the admirable title you hit on so cleverly, for not only have I sent forth the piece into the world as a symphony cantata, but I have serious thoughts of resuming the first “Walpurgis Nacht” (which has been so long lying by me) under the same cognomen, and finishing and getting rid of it at last. It is singular enough that at the very first suggestion of this idea, I should have written to Berlin, that I was resolved to compose a symphony with a chorus; subsequently I had not courage to begin, because the three movements were too long for an introduction, and yet I never could divest myself of the impression, that something was wanting in the shape of an introduction. Now the symphony is to be inserted, according to my original intention, and the piece brought out at once. Do you know it? I scarcely think that it is well adapted for performance, and yet I like it much.