world, unconscious of evil, undaunted by it. With all the temptations that must have assailed the young, handsome, rich man, there is not one moment of his life over which his friends would wish to draw a veil. On such a life as that of Felix Mendelssohn, it is good for every one to look, for once, genius is not set forth as a dazzling screen to hide and to excuse disorder and crime, but genius, that one great gift from heaven, was employed as heaven would have directed it, each action, each succeeding year of his life, bringing forth in various but harmonious ways, that extraordinary moral and intellectual worth, that rare beauty of character that endeared him to all who knew him, ensured him the unvarying love of kindred and friends, and the admiration of the whole world.

PREFACE.

Last year a paragraph was inserted in the newspapers, requesting any one who possessed letters from Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy to send them to Professor Droysen, or to myself, with the view of completing a selection from his correspondence which we contemplated publishing. Our design in this was twofold.

In the first place, we wished to offer to the public in Mendelssohn's own words, which always so truly and faithfully mirrored his thoughts, the most genuine impression of his character; and secondly, we thought that the biographical elements contained in such a correspondence, might be of infinite use in the compilation of a memoir—which we reserve for a future day—and serve as its precursor and basis.

There are difficulties, however, opposed to the immediate fulfilment of our original purpose to its full extent; and at present it is impossible to decide when these can be removed.

I have, therefore, formed the resolution to carry out my plan in the meantime within more circumscribed limits, but which leaves me unfettered.

On Mendelssohn's return from his first visit to England, in the year 1829, he came to Berlin for a short time to attend a family festivity, and thence in 1830 proceeded to Italy, returning through Switzerland to France, and in the beginning of 1832 visiting England for the second time.

This period, which to a certain degree forms a separate section of his life, and which, through the vivid impressions it made, assuredly exercised an important influence on Mendelssohn's development (we may mention that he was only one-and-twenty at the commencement of his journey), supplies us with a number of letters addressed to his parents, and to his sisters, Fanny and Rebecca, as well as to myself. I have also added some communications of the same date, to various friends, partly entire and partly in extracts, and now present them to the public in their original integrity.

Those who were personally acquainted with Mendelssohn, and who wish once more to realize him as he was when in life,—and those also who would be glad to acquire a more definite idea of his individuality than can be found in the general inferences deduced from his musical creations,—will not lay down these letters dissatisfied. Along with this particular source of interest they offer a more universal one, as they prove how admirably Mendelssohn's superior nature, and perceptions of Art, mutually pervaded and regulated each other.

With this view, it appeared to me a duty to give to the public these letters, stored up in the peaceful home for which they were originally destined and exclusively intended, and thus to make them accessible to a more extended circle. They begin by a visit to Goethe. May his words then accompany these Letters, as an appropriate convoy:—

Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy.

Berlin, March, 1861.

LETTERS.

Weimar, May 21st, 1830.

Never, in the whole course of my travels, do I remember a more glorious and inspiriting day for a journey than yesterday. At an early hour in the morning the sky was grey and cloudy, but the sun presently burst forth; the air was cool and fresh, and being Ascension Sunday the people were all dressed in their best. In one village I saw them crowding into church as I passed, in another coming away from divine service, and, last of all, playing at bowls. The gardens were bright with tulips, and I drove quickly past, eagerly looking at everything. At Weissenfels they gave me a little basket carriage, and at Naumburg an open droschky. My effects, including my hat and cloak, were piled upon it behind. I bought a few bunches of lilies-of-the-valley, and thus I travelled on through the country, as if on a pleasure excursion.

Some collegians came up to me beyond Naumburg, and envied me. We then drove past President G——, seated in a small carriage, which evidently had some difficulty in containing him, and his daughters or wives; in short, the two ladies with him, who appeared equally envious of my position. We actually trotted up the Kösen Hill, for the horses scarcely drew bridle, and overtook several heavily-laden carriages, the drivers of which no doubt also envied me, for I was really to be envied. The scenery had a charming air of spring—so cheerful and gay, and blooming. The sun sank solemnly behind the hills, and presently we came up with the Russian minister and his suite, in two heavy carriages, each with four horses, in true ponderous official array; and my light droschky darted past him like a hare.

In the evening I got a pair of restive horses, so that I had my little annoyance also, (according to my theory, enhancing pleasure,) and not a single bar did I compose all day, but enjoyed complete idleness. It was a delicious day, and one I shall not soon forget. I close this description with the remark, that the children in Eckartsberge dance merry rounds hand-in-hand, just as ours do at home, and that the appearance of a stranger did not in the least disturb them, in spite of his distinguished air; I should have liked to join in their game.

May 24th.

I wrote this before going to see Goethe, early in the forenoon, after a walk in the park; but I could not find a moment to finish my letter till now. I shall probably remain here for a couple of days, which is no sacrifice, for I never saw the old gentleman so cheerful and amiable as on this occasion, or so talkative and communicative. My especial reason however for staying two days longer, is a very agreeable one, and makes me almost vain, or I ought rather to say proud, and I do not intend to keep it secret from you,—Goethe, you must know, sent me a letter yesterday addressed to an artist here, a painter, which I am to deliver myself; and Ottilie confided to me that it contains a commission to take my portrait, as Goethe wishes to place it in a collection of likenesses he has recently commenced of his friends. This circumstance gratified me exceedingly; as however I have not yet seen the complaisant artist who is to accomplish this, nor has he seen me, it is probable that I shall have to remain here until the day after to-morrow. I don't in the least regret