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FELIX MENDELSSOHN.

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with a distinction unparalleled, save by Mozart. Possibly, too, he found a decline of the physical power necessary to contend with the daily exigencies of his position. At any rate, his ap

The death of Dr. Mendelssohn, in the early part of the last month, is one of the most melancholy casualties that have occurred in the musical art for a long time. We naturally forget how many similar and sudden experiences have sug-pearance in the orchestra, when last we saw gested the usual reflections on the uncertainty of life, and the vanity of human wishes, in the sight of a young composer invested with all the goods of fortune; the spectacle of artist-existence in a favorite of the public is so animated that we confer a kind of immortality upon it, and remove into hazy obscurity and the dim vista of the future the last and greatest of evils. But surely the recollection of C. M. von Weber, carried off in the first acclamation of his triumph among us, and of the early doom of Bellini, the most inventive melodist and dramatic genius of modern Italy, with numerous promising names in the humbler ranks of art, should teach us our error in wilfully excepting genius from the influence of the ordinary rule of human instability. When a composer fulfils the arduous duties, and complicated responsibilities, of Mendelssohn, he attains the giddiest height of prosperity and applause, with proportionate danger to health and life; and now that the melancholy event is passed, we begin to look into its prognostics.

him at the Philharmonic Society, did not betray the fatal secret. Those who saw Mendelssohn on that brilliant occasion, honored by the presence of the Queen, revelling in his favorite Pianoforte Concerto - Beethoven's in G-with all the playful grace, the ease, and conscious mastery that communicated their peculiar charms to the performance, can scarcely have anticipated that, in a few short months, the player and his piece would become alike food for history. That those inconceivably rapid and elastic fingers, whose "artful and unimaginable touches" created the uproar of enthusiasm in the concertroom, should not delight us from season to season for a course of years seemed impossible. Never was a man so "booked" in public expectation for long prosperity. Removed from envy, rivalry, and detraction, in the possession of an ample fortune, he had nothing to do but to live; to live was to flourish, and to perform what was easy to him.

Such was the promising aspect in which Dr. We remember that, of late, he was solicitous Mendelssohn appeared in the lighted evening rather to avoid engagements than to accept concert-room to his admiring audience. By them; that he would not conduct the Leipsic daylight, and in closer contiguity, the spectator subscription concerts this year; that he was often was struck by a certain appearance of premature with difficulty induced to play; and that he found age which his countenance exhibited; he seemed himself physically incompetent to cope with the already to have outstretched the natural term of weight of the Birmingham organ at the last fes- his existence by at least ten years. No one, tival. What he had formerly undertaken with judging by the lines in his face, would have cheerful and ready compliance, he now reluc- guessed his age to be thirty-nine only. The distantly accepted, or absolutely refused. It is true proportion between his actual age and the charthat, after a career of some twenty years before acter of his face was especially noticed at the the public, applause was not to seek; he had morning "Homage to Mendelssohn," performed exhibited marvels of facility as concerto and in Harley Street by the Beethoven Quartet extempore player on the organ and pianoforte, Society. Here he was gay and animated, and and amidst such frenzied plaudits, that the in- played delightfully; but, to the surprise of close toxicating draught of youthful ambition may observers, was no longer a young man. He had have lost its stimulus. Like some other heroes, compressed a great deal of life into a short comhowever, he also may have found perpetual pass, and wanted a stronger physical constitution glory of itself an accumulating and intolerable to support the throes of perpetual invention, and weight, and that a great name and figure in the the excitement consequent on his elevated posieye of the world are dearly purchased by con- tion. He was conscientious in fulfilling what he stant toil and responsibility. He may have owed to his art, and to the public who cherished wished to anticipate the honorable repose of age him; he sought to confirm "golden opinions" in consideration of the more than double duty of by the most generous efforts, and in the end his youth-having in his various capacities of may almost be described as "killed by kindcomposer, concerto player, extempore player, ness." The path of genius will always be chivaland conductor of an orchestra, acquitted himself | rous from its self-sacrificing ambition; and if the

cold neglect of the last century, and the eager patronage of the present, produce like results to the composer, society has at least advanced in granting the artist during his lifetime the full content of appreciation and sympathy.

The prosperous course of Felix Mendelssohn from infancy to maturity will always remain a bright and pleasant dream for artists in this contentious world. The advantages of a good position by birth; of possessing a name already celebrated in the walks of literature and philosophy; of musical parents, who quickly discerned the bent of his genius, and who spared no pains in developing it; of early intercourse with men of remarkable endowments, from whom he imbibed the tastes natural to intellectual preëminence and refined education — all these united for him in such a measure, that until the fairies again assemble round the cradle of a child with their good gifts, we shall look in vain for a similar picture of happy artist boyhood. Mendelssohn was born at Hamburg, Feb. 3, 1809. His father, a distinguished merchant at Berlin, found in that city the best materials for the musical and intellectual cultivation of his son. We are strongly reminded of the history of the Mozart family in the infant musical promise of Mendelssohn and his elder sister, almost his rival in skill, who always accompanied him in his tastes, and whom, by a remarkable fatality and coincidence in the mortal attack, he has this year accompanied to the tomb. In the case of the children of M. Mendelssohn, the mother, however, was the good genius who chiefly influenced their musical progress. This lady was herself an excellent practical musician, formed in the schools of Sebastian and Emanuel Bach; and not only did she appreciate the works of these models of musical science, but their utility in developing the musical dispositions of the young. Her example is worthy of imitation. She commenced with lessons of five minutes' duration, gradually extending them; and so rapid was the child's progress under her tuition, that by his eighth year he mastered with ease passages requiring a very skilful execution. At this tender age, he was also able to transpose the pieces in Cramer's studio, and to play from the scores of Bach at sight. His ear readily detected fifths and other inaccuracies in counterpoint. He discovered an error of this sort which had previously escaped detection in a motet by Bach. The precocity which he displayed excited general admiration: and the masters who successively assisted in his musical education were fully persuaded that they were rearing another Mozart.

Louis Berger, of Berlin, succeeded the mother of Mendelssohn as his musical instructor; and, subsequently, the boy, together with his sister,

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took lessons of any famous master who happened to be sojourning in Berlin, thus appropriating the different excellences of many artists, Hummel, Moscheles, &c. The musical capacities of these accomplished children are described as nearly equal; a generous emulation prevailed between them; sometimes the brother was in advance, sometimes the sister. A life-long, profound sympathy and attachment grew out of their common musical studies; and to appreciate the beauty of the nearness of kin and of soul subsisting between Mendelssohn and his sister, Music, with her impassioned and elevated influences, must aid us. Rarely are kindred gifts of high genius bestowed upon a brother and sister; but of Mendelssohn and Madame Henvel* it may truly be said

"Like fortunes did their souls acquaint."

The steps by which the youthful artist accomplished that complete readiness of eye and hand, of musical intellect and ear, which rendered him as a practical musician the wonder of our age, are obvious. Difficulty had at length no place in his vocabulary; he had learned to anticipate all the combinations of pianoforte music; and his early industry so far, of late, superseded the necessity of practice, that he has been known to play both the organ and pianoforte in public after intermitting practice for months. He sustained to the end all the assaults of the most inveterate mechanism; and, with Liszt and Thalberg in the field, was incontestibly the first pianoforte player of his day. Music, whose true votary he was, never deserted him, and taught the most industrious saloon players, when he was present, to know their place.

The plan pursued to form young Mendelssohn as a composer was directed also by great intelligence. He had been placed for this branch of art under Zetter, of the singing academy, a thoughtful master, and the correspondent of Goethe; and Zetter thought too highly of his charge to fetter his genius by scholastic rules. The exercises he made under Zetter were chiefly little symphonies in four parts, for stringed instruments, in composing which he followed the bent of his genius. After what fancy and imagination had achieved for the music of modern Germany, it was feared that systems might stifle

* The memory of this lady was as wonderful as that of her brother. On her father's birthday, she once performed, as a surprise to him, an incredible feat, namely, of playing, by memory, the whole of the forty-eight preludes and fugues of Sebastian Bach. The recollection of a fugue implies that of the entire movement of its parts, and its difficulty can be appreciated only by experiment. It is a certain test of with some of Madame Henvel's compositions, which musical mind. We shall now also become acquainted are of similar texture to her brother's.

some important poetical new birth. In spite of the license to run wild, order, learness, and regularity still distinguished the productions of the student, and were the index to the character of his mind. The domestic musical habits of Mendelssohn's family were still more happily disposed to excite his enthusiasm for composition than the approbation and encouragement of his preceptor. Every fortnight, there was a concert at the Mendelssohn's, at which a quartet of good artists performed a variety of classical compositions, and together with them the last new symphony of Felix.' What an advantage this! Surely the music of young composer was never before nursed in such softness and delight, amidst such kind family sympathy and so much encouragement from musicians. By the time he reached twenty, he was not only the greatest player of the day, but the character of his compositions entitled him to occupy that place in the interest of the public which Beethoven and Weber had not long resigned. Before his first published works, two pianoforte quartets, had reached us, his name and promise were familiar in England through the medium of foreign musical journals, and the connexions of the British embassy at Berlin. His first English associations were, probably, formed at the parties of Mrs. Austin, then resident in that city; and when he arrived in this country (in 1829), to verify the prepossessions of his admirers, he still lived in great intimacy with her family.

But there wanted no protection for such prodigious powers as Mendelssohn exhibited at twenty years of age, when his first symphony was introduced at the Philharmonic Concerts. He was received with open arms; and though the highest art here is rarely much regarded in the highest society, he, in the end, recommended himself peculiarly to royal favor. The effect of his first appearance in England was strongly assisted by circumstances. Weber's overtures and Beethoven's symphonies were then first making their true impression at the Philharmonic, and the public, in a transport of enthusiasm, were just awakening to a due sense of the loss of those masters, when the youth stepped forward who was to wield the mighty implements of their art. Still, it was not merely by his early and profound mastery of the mechanism and poetry of composition that Mendelssohn made such rapid progress in the affections of the English; his extraordinary personal endowments, in which fine playing, an intuitive kind of musical leading, a vast memory, which embraced the details as well as the broad features of a score, and a fine talent of improvisation were conspicuous, altogether realized an idea of genius which we do not readily concede to an occasional composer

and conductor of an orchestra. Here was a young man who honored his place in the orchestra by what he could do out of it; he not merely beat time with a stick for others to play, but played himself, challenging every kind of musical difficulty, and coming off constantly victorious. Wherever he was, he created that atmosphere of wonder and excitement in which the musician delights. If he was to play on the organ, to make a cadence to a concerto on the pianoforte, or even about to rehearse an overture or symphony, every one was on tiptoe for some characteristic and delightful trait. From public life he was followed into private, with a kind of devotion; his obliging disposition, his polished and agreeable manners, and the stores of his reading, rendering his conversation second only in interest to his music. In poetry he was so well versed, that scarcely a quotation could be made unfamiliar to him, in its fullest force of word or phrase; his drawings, also, were those of a distinguished amateur. Sympathies like these, with the whole circle of the fine arts, qualified him in a remarkable manner for general society; and Mendelssohn is, perhaps, the first eminently gifted musician whose conversation and intimacy have been sought purely for their own charm alone. It was a compliment frequently paid to the social capacity of Mendelssohn to have him without music.

During the present century, the lives of great artists have been less recluse than formerly. The known amiable dispositions of Weber and Spohr have proved a most favorable illustration of their works, and personal esteem for the composers has much assisted their progress, and promoted their effect. At what precise time Mendelssohn committed his fortunes to the art, and turned from his amateur position into a profession for which he was not originally designed, we forget; but, notwithstanding the public and private advantages of his auspicious commencement, he was never tempted to abuse them. Profitable speculation had no charms for him, compared with fidelity to art. The art was ever uppermost; and whatever subject was proposed to him for music was obliged to interest his imagination. He cautiously even then produced his works in public, and desired to review and correct them, when time had given them some appearance of novelty even to himself. Thus the Walpurgis Nacht, that gloomy and poetical Druidical picture, though only performed in London two or three seasons ago, was a product of his intimacy with Goethe, and of the suggestion of the poet. It is a very early item in his musical catalogue.

Like Mozart, he completed entire compositions in his mind, and often alluded to them as finished

while yet no note was on paper. He was wont to regulate the march of his productions in regard to variety and quality: now a more familiar, now a more difficult work, announced his presence in the musical world. He thus maintained public interest and expectation through the various aspects of his genius, and advanced by the steps of fame well calculated and assured. He exercised severe criticism on his own productions, and often replaced entire movements. The genius which Mendelssohn displayed in instrumental composition was characterized by strong individuality. His third symphony in A minor seems to open the true era of his strength in that department. The fine adagio of this work is a great achievement, Mendelssohn succeeding better in light and piquant fancies than in profound, sustained, and original melody. The scherzas of his works in general are so excellent as to be quite prominent in modern art; his allegros come next in interest, and his slow movements last. His ottetto for stringed instruments is one of his most beautiful compositions; he has never written a larger or more impassioned allegro than the opening one to this. His third pianoforte quartet, in B minor, is one of the best of his production for the pianoforte and stringedinstruments, and greatly surpasses in interest his trios and sonatas for the piano and violoncello. The defect of his chamber-music is some tincture of monotony in the melodies and effects; it is surprising that so fertile an extemporizer did not exhibit more variety in the decorative bravura passages incidental to piano-forte music. The " Songs without words," which he used to play so beautifully, retain still their charm of individuality and style. In every thing he succeeded best where he himself struck out the path. His cantata and sacred music has still been but imperfectly heard: we have had large, but not select, orchestras employed on these works; and the effect of the chorus from St. Paul, Happy and Blest," accompanied by the Philharmonic orchestra, realized the freshness of a first impression. The same novelty of effect may be anticipated from the delightful choruses in Antigone, when we hear them with the proper singers and a great orchestra. His power of painting dramatic situation, according to the moving pictures of life with which we are conversant in opera-books, may be doubted. The Marriage of Camacho had no great success, and the romantic modern drama appears to have possessed few charms for him. Mendelssohn's was of an epic turn; he described passions and events in the mass, and under the influence of the past, with great truth; but this failed him in the mere conventional situations of the drama. He made few dramatic efforts, probably because

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among his other studies he had not omitted himself. Where natural impulse did not carry him, he cared not to go.

As a composer of oratorios, he was possessed by the noblest ambition. In St. Paul and Elijah, he exhibits the broad massive style of Handel and Bach; he boldly enters the same arena, and adopts the same diatonic simplicity in its succession of fugues and choral introductions, taking only due advantage of the progress of the instrumental art. Here was his great superiority. In discriminating the voices and tones of instruments, he had the greatest ability; and his orchestration, on the whole, may be considered as the latest model of the perfection of the art. His songs and miscellaneous compositions would carry us too far to notice. Mendelssohn's genius can only be appreciated by reference to that of the greatest masters; the intellectual character of his music was first-rate; but, in the sensuousness and voluptuousness of mere melody, it was deficient. If he fell short of the greatest aim, he fell nobly. No man was ever more powerfully imbued with the spirit of the artist: he lived apart" amidst great designs and resolutions: nothing base approached his soul.

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It is now some eighteen years since we began to watch for the periodical return of Mendelssohn to London, like that of the flowers in spring. He is inseparably associated with our last recollections of the festival of "the Sons of the Clergy," as it is used to be kept. The late organist, Mr. Attwood, who loved him as a son, always expected him at the organ for the last voluntary; and the musicians present, each anxious to obtain a view of him, used to form themselves into a thick cloud above his head. One of his first exhibitions was the conversion of a phrase from the first chorus of the Dettingen Te Deum, and another from the Hallelujah Chorus, into a double fugue. This, by some musicians, was thought to be premeditated; but it was not so in fact. He knew every thing in music, and his contrapuntal mind taught him instantly what would go together. Arriving late at a concert, where he has been expected to play extempore, he would take a bill from his pocket, with the words, " Let me see, what have they been doing?" and then would combine in his fantasia something that had been done with what he had just heard. This was the readiness of his science and practical skill. Then for his memory, he would go through whole volumes of Beethoven and Bach. Not only that with which early practice had imbued him had he in present command, but whatever novelty of merit he was at the pains to study remained as if stamped in his mind. The world is, in general, very glad to take the intellectual measure of a

favorite: but Mendelssohn withstood all the trials to which he was exposed, and the limit of his extempore capacity was never ascertained. In his cadences to pianoforte concertos he never repeated himself, and whenever he rehearsed them (as is sometimes necessary in the music of Beethoven), he did it with fun, showing himself perfectly at ease with respect to execution and invention. Mr. Lucas will, probably, remember the difficulty he had in bringing in the band in the right place, when Mendelssohn first rehearsed Beethoven's Concerto in G. These are pleasant memories of the master. Then, for good music, he was always so impassioned, that his brilliant example, could it have lasted, would, in the end, have moved the whole musical world. How much he did for Bach! How many of that master's MSS. pedal fugues, &c. were first played by him from memory! and how often he declared, by word and deed, that he knew no such composer!

Let success have been heaped upon Mendelssohn in what measure it may, we still owe him our love for the unselfish love which he lavished on the art. We have only to add a few

circumstances of his life since he left us. At the close of the season he appeared in his usual health, and passed into Switzerland for the summer. Here the news of his sister's sudden death deeply affected him. She was with a party rehearsing his Walpurgis Nacht, when she was seized with what appeared to be a fainting fit, but it proved to be paralysis of the brain, and carried her off in three days. The mother of Mendelssohn had died of a similar attack, and it strongly appeared to him that, in in these events, his own doom was foretold. He did not conceal that he apprehended a similar termination to his own life, and, in spite of all friendly dissuasions from the encouragement of such a train of thought, his prophecy was literally fulfilled. He departed like his sister, and in the same manner, being seized with illness while he was accompanying a lady in a song he had just composed. From his first attack he partially recovered, and was able to take a drive; but a relapse occurred. He lay for a whole day in a state of insensibility, and in this manner the great and rising genius of the age breathed his last. Fraser's Magazine.

Translated for the Daguerreotype.

LETTERS FROM INDIA.

Briefe aus Indien von Dr. W. Hoffmeister. | the favorable notice of the learned, has left beBraunschweig, 1847. (Letters from India, by Dr. W. Hoffmeister, Physician in the Suite of Prince Waldemar of Prussia. Compiled from his letters and Journals, by Dr. A. Hoffmeister.)

Every one who attentively peruses these let ters, which their writer sent from distant countries to his friends at home, will experience mingled feelings of pleasure and grief;— of pleasure at the vivid representations of new objects, at the lucid descriptions of new scenes, with which the narrator is constantly becoming acquainted; at the unwearied perseverance with which he overcomes all difficulties and encounters all dangers; at the freshness and liveliness with which he depicts all the events in which he bore a part; - of sincere grief on the other hand when he remembers that this young man, gifted with extraordinary talents and apparently destined to render important services in the cause of science, in full vigor of youth and freshness of life was suddenly by a chance shot hurried away from the scene of his action and promising career. And thus W. Hoffmeister, whose scientific pursuits had already attracted

hind him nothing but scattered leaves, which however are the more interesting because the sketches, though hastily made, bear the marks of a sure and experienced hand, and give a vivid representation of the scenes through which he passed, and which he desired to communicate to his friends at home. It leads us moreover to places which are but seldom visited by travellers, and least of all by Germans, and that under circumstances which would be quite impossible to private tourists. It is true that we have only detached letters, which were not intended for publication; but the chasms have been filled dup from the writer's journal, or short letters have been joined together and arranged in chronological order." A short preface by Professor Ritter conveys some particulars respecting the brief life of the author. Born at Brunswick in the year 1819, he distinguished himself at an early age as a zealous student of natural history, and was selected to fill the post of physician and companion to Prince Waldemar of Prussia.

The first letter, dated September 21, 1844, describes the voyage from Triest to Athens, Corfu, Patras, and Corinth, and gives some pleasing particulars of the domestic life of the

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