# Selected letters of Mendelssohn/Letter 1

SELECTED
LETTERS OF MENDELSSOHN.
TO HIS FAMILY.
Weimar, 21st May, 1830.
Since my travels began I can’t remember such a bright and fresh day’s journeying as yesterday. Early in the morning the sky was grey and clouded, but later on the sun came out; the air was cool; it was Ascension Day, so the people all had their best clothes on, and I saw them in one village going into church, in the next coming out, in another they were all playing bowls. The gardens were full of brilliant tulips, and there was I driving fast through it all, getting a view of everything. At Weissenfels they gave me a little basket-carriage, and at Naumburg a regular open drosky; the luggage was piled up behind, hat and cloak along with them; and then I bought myself a pair of May nosegays, and so dashed through the country in perfect holiday fashion.
​Just past Naumburg, there appeared a party of upper form boys from Pforta, who must perforce look at me with envy; then we drove by President G., mounted in a trap which only just carried him, and his daughters, or his wives—the two ladies, at all events, who were with him, envied me likewise. We trotted up the Kösener Hills, for the horses scarcely needed to pull, and then we overhauled a procession of overloaded waggoners, and they envied me, too, for, indeed, I was worthy of envy. The country-side looked so full of the spring and its brilliancy, all bright and glad; and then the sun went down solemnly behind the hills. Then there came the Russian ambassador, proceeding along with two great four-horse chaises in a sombre, business-like style, and I flew past him in my drosky like a hare, and in the evening I got government horses again, so that a slight vexation should not be wanting (it is essential to pleasure by my theory), and all day I composed nothing, but merely enjoyed myself. It was a noble day, that is the truth, and one not to be forgotten. I close this description with the remark that the children of Eckartsberge play “Ringe, Rosenkranz,” just as they do with us, and did not let the strange gentleman’s presence disturb them, though he looked very imposing. I should have liked nothing better than to play with them myself.
May 24th.
This I wrote before I went to Goethe after walking in the park early in the morning; now I am still here, ​and have never been able to get further with the letter. Very likely I shall remain here two days longer, and I shall lose nothing by doing so, for I have never yet found the old man so cheerful and amiable as now, nor so sympathetic and full of talk. But the real reason for my stopping is a fine one, and makes me almost vain, I should rather say, proud; I will not conceal it from you. Goethe sent me yesterday a letter addressed to a painter here, which I was to deliver myself, and Ottilie told me in confidence it contained a commission to paint my portrait, which Goethe wished to add to a collection of portraits of his acquaintance which he has long been making. The thing rejoiced my heart (almost in the Biblical sense); but as I have not yet encountered my kindly painter, nor he me, it is clear that I must stop till the day after to-morrow; I don’t regret it, as I said before, for I am having a glorious time here, and feel such delight in being near my old hero. I have dined with him every day till now, and my presence is required again to-morrow morning. This evening he gives a party, at which I am to play; he talks about everything, asks questions about everything; it is a delight to hear him. But now I must give you a reasonable and orderly account of my proceedings, so that you may know all I have to tell.
The first morning I went to visit Ottilie, whom I found indeed still in weak health, and complaining sometimes, but just as amiable and charming to me as ever. We have been together almost ​perpetually ever since, and it has been a great pleasure to me thus coming to know her more intimately.
Ulrica I find even more winning and sweet than before. She has gained a seriousness that seems to pervade her whole being, and the depth and unfailing truth of her feeling make her one of the most beautiful spirits I have ever met with. The two boys, Walter and Wolff, are lively, industrious, and affectionate; it is delightful to hear them talking about “grandpapa’s Faust.” To come back to my narrative. I sent Zelter’s letter in to Goethe, who invited me to dinner. I found him outwardly unchanged, but at first somewhat silent and reserved; I fancy he must have wanted to observe me, but at the moment I felt disappointed, and thought to myself, “Now he is always like that.” But then by good fortune the conversation happened to turn on the Weimar “Women’s Association” and the Chaos, a fantastic newspaper, which circulates among the ladies, and to the staff of which I have just been promoted myself.
The old man all at once became jovial, and began to quiz the two ladies about their philanthropy and their intellect, also about the subscriptions and their visitation of the sick, which seemed particularly to move his wrath. He appealed to me to join him in a revolt against these things, and, when I would not, he returned to his former indifference, but at last he became more friendly and intimate than I had ever known him before. It was beyond everything! Talking about the “Robber’s Bride,” by Ries, he said it contained everything a writer nowadays wanted to ​make him happy, namely, a robber and a bride. Then he railed against the universal sentimentality of young people, and their perpetual melancholy. He told us stories about a young lady whom he had courted once, and who also had taken a certain interest in him. Then came the turn of the bazaar for the benefit of the unfortunate, at which the Weimar ladies acted as saleswomen, and where he maintained it was impossible to buy a single thing, because the young people arranged beforehand between themselves who everything was to go to, and then it was hidden away till the right buyer appeared; and so forth. After dinner, he all at once began to hum, “Gute Kinder—hübsche Kinder muss immer lustig sein—tolles Volk,” and his eyes grew like those of an old lion just falling asleep. Presently I had to play to him, and he said it was very strange to him to think how long it was since he had heard any music, and meanwhile great advances had been made and he knew nothing of them. There were many things I must explain to him, “some time we must have a reasonable talk together.” Then he said to Ottilie, “No doubt you have made all your wise arrangements, but that doesn’t avail against my commands, which are, that you are to make tea here to-day, so that we may keep each other company.” She asked if it would not be too late, as Riemer would be coming and expect to work with him; but he replied: “You gave your children a holiday from their Latin this morning to hear Felix play, so you can let me off my work too.” Then he invited me to dinner to-day, and I played to him for a long time in the evening. My three Welsh ​pieces succeed admirably here, and I am practising my English again. I had asked Goethe to say “du” when he spoke to me, so the next day I received a sort of message through Ottilie that then I should have to stop longer than two days, as I had intended, or else he would not have time to get used to it. He said the same thing to me himself, and let me feel I should be losing nothing by stopping rather longer; besides, he asked me to dine with him whenever I had no other engagement, so I have been there daily till now. Yesterday I had to tell him everything about Scotland, Hengstenberg, Spontini, and Hegel’s æsthetics; then he sent me out to Tiefurt with the ladies, but forbade me to go to Berke, because a very pretty girl lives there, and he would not let me fall into misfortune; and to crown it all, I think to myself this is indeed the very Goethe about whom people used to affirm that he was not one person at all, but had been formed by the blending together of many smaller “Goethides!”—truly I should be mad if I regretted the loss of my time. To-day I am to play him some things by Bach, Haydn, and Mozart, and conduct him down to the present time, as he says. Besides, I have gone through the regular duties of the visitor, and have seen the library and Iphigenia in Aulis.
Felix.