I will always obey the commands of a sovereign so beloved by me, even at the sacrifice of my personal wishes and advantage. If I find I cannot do so with a good artistic conscience, I must endeavour candidly to state my scruples or my incapacity, and if that does not suffice, then I must go. This may sound absurd in the mouth of a musician, but shall I not feel duty as much in my position as others do in theirs? In an occurrence so personally important to me, shall I not follow the dictates of integrity and truth, as I have striven to do all my life?
After this fresh experience, I fear even what I verbally mentioned to your Excellency already,—that my stay on such slippery ground, and under such perplexing circumstances, is impossible. But by this mode of acting, and this alone, can I hope, independently of momentary impressions, to preserve the good opinion of his Majesty, which is more important to me than all the rest; indeed it is only thus that I can hope really to serve the King and his ideas. I cannot be an indifferent, doubtful, or secretly discontented servant to such a monarch; he could not employ me thus, and thus I would not only be useless to him, but sacrifice myself.
To Julius Stern, Paris, (now professor in berlin.)
London, May 27th, 1844.
Dear Herr Stern,
You well know the very great pleasure your kind letter was sure to cause me; at the same time I was perfectly aware that in the first moments after the representation[72] you would view in far too favourable a light, and far too highly prize, my music and its success. But that you should do so, and feel yourself thus rewarded for the many and great efforts which this representation has cost you, is indeed to me a source of the highest gratification. Accept my most cordial thanks. May I, by better works, deserve your too partial opinion! May all my works find friends as loving to adopt them, and to bring them to a satisfactory execution! May this also be the case at all times with your own works; I cannot desire anything better for you.
I am also exceedingly indebted to you for having been so kind as to thank the performers in my name. According to your suggestion, I am writing some lines to Herr Morel, who directed the music, requesting him to be assured of my gratitude, and to express this also to Herr Boccage; but do not be displeased with me if I decline taking the other hint,—as to making a present to the leading performers. This would be contrary to the fixed principles which I adopted at the beginning of my musical career,—never in any way to mix up my personal position with my musical one, or ever to improve the latter by the influence of the former, or in any manner to bribe public or private opinion with regard to me, or even to attempt to strengthen it. Precisely owing to the heartfelt gratitude I entertain towards all those who interest themselves in my music, it would be impossible for me to follow the fashion of giving similar presents, without for ever embittering for the future, the gratitude, and the joy emanating from it. And although this fashion may have been introduced by great authorities, I must always remain true to myself, and to what I deem to be right, and feel to be right; so you must excuse me for not complying with this practice.[73] I trust that you will not be angry with me, and rather defend me against those who may attack me on this account. You will acknowledge that every man must fix certain rules by which he is to live and act, and will not therefore misconstrue my adhering to mine. My hearty greeting to all my friends, and may we have a happy meeting in our Fatherland.—Your devoted
Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy.