On the 23d of December Moscheles writes:—
Your letter of the 12th broke in on me like a ray of sunshine piercing an autumn fog. Were I subject to the blues, like so many sufferers in this fog-ridden city, your cheerful lines would have set me up for any length of time.
Your appreciation of my “Studies” gives me much pleasure. I did not feel called upon to aim at popularity with the general public, nor did I venture to believe that my work addressed itself to the more restricted circle of connoisseurs. That you, of all the Select, should welcome me with a Bravo, strengthens my faith in myself. Delighted I am, too, to find that you, with your master eye, should at once have hit on the passages that seem to me my more successful inspirations.
We cannot get over our regrets to have missed you in London and Birmingham; your triumphs in the latter place are being echoed all over England. Your “Saint Paul,” your pianoforte Concerto, and your performances on the organ, one and all, are unreservedly praised. I am glad to see that your Oratorio is announced by the Sacred Harmonic Society as “the popular Oratorio.” We so-called Directors of the Philharmonic Society are thirsting for something new in the line of Symphonies or Overtures. It is as hopeless a task to satisfy the wishes of the Society as it was in times gone by for the Danaïdes to fill their tub. Some would have us supply them with half a dozen posthumous Symphonies of Beethoven, complete or fragmentary; others want a place found on the programme for every attempt at composition made by native talent.
You have promised us your A major Symphony in its new shape, and we mean to keep you to your word, and hope you will not let us wait long. It is a great favorite of mine, and I feel as if I were going to meet a beautiful girl in a new dress, and were wondering whether that would make me admire her more than before. Nous verrons, nous entendrons. In the mean while I hold in safe keeping my Beauty attired as I first knew her (the original score), and remain faithful to her.
Liszt writes from Milan that several of his compositions are to be published in London, and that he intends dedicating one of them to me. May my fingers grow by then! He wishes to become better known in this country, as he proposes coming here shortly.
The “Gazette Musicale” exalts Berlioz’s Requiem above all music of all times. A new vista, it says, is opened! You know I am not a believer in this genius; tell me whether anything of his has been to your taste. Good-by; if my letter is welcome, reward me by soon letting me have one in return.
Ever your friend,
I. Moscheles.