finally, they are both so truly Moscheles that it is hard to choose! Well, there they are, both of them; so there is no necessity to make a choice.
Will you allow me an observation,—the only one that occurred to me? There is something in the last two bars of the D minor Study, the end of which I otherwise like so much, that sounds strange to my ear. The long rest on the seventh, and then the F in the melody (half a bar before the last) gives to that passage a melodious coloring that does not seem to me quite in keeping with the general character of the Study. I think some simpler, bolder final chord would be more in harmony with the whole. It is a trifling objection, you see, and perhaps I am altogether wrong; so excuse the liberty and set me right.
It does strut along so splendidly, that D minor Study; and I can play it pretty well already too. The one in F I cannot manage at all yet, although I have tried hard.
Your putting at the head of them the words “Without characteristic names,” is, I can see, an allusion to my pert remarks in Gotha. Well, you must pardon them, as well as all others in the past, and possibly in the future. Let me thank you too, my dear friend, in my wife’s name and in my own, for the dedication of your Songs. It is a kind gift we shall ever value.
You will have heard that I am going for a year to Berlin. I could not refuse, but fully intend to return at the end of the time. I would rather be here than there. To be sure, I am to rejoice in the title of Kapellmeister, to get a lot of money, and to have no special duties, either at the theatre or elsewhere,—in fact, to be quite my own master; but with all that, I don’t quite like it. I shall be there in about ten days; and as soon as I can tell you more about it, you shall hear from me.
Yours ever,
Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy.
In June, 1842, Mendelssohn once more returned to London, this time accompanied by his wife; and so at last Mrs. Moscheles had the opportunity, to which she had been looking forward so long, of making Cécile Mendelssohn’s acquaintance, and of welcoming her to England. They met, as might be expected, fully disposed to indorse the bond of friendship that united their husbands. Sympathetically attracted to one another at the outset, they soon exchanged the more formal mode of address for the affectionate “Du,” therein following the example of their husbands, who, years ago, had in the same way taken the pledge of brotherhood. Their friendship continued and remained unchanged until the premature death of Cécile Mendelssohn.