Meanwhile _Camacho_ was granted one unwilling hearing by Spontini, in the
smaller theatre. Galled by the sneering remarks of the critics, Felix
found the art atmosphere of Berlin more and more antipathetic. Entering
the University of that city, he had less time for composition. How far he
followed the course does not appear. He attended lectures of Hegel (one
of whose courses was on music), and of Ritter, the great geographer. And
he resumed his study of Italian classics, translating into German verse
sonnets of Dante and others. There too he became a proficient in landscape
drawing. Ten years later the University of Leipsic conferred on him the
honorary degree of Doctor of Philosophy.
The life in the new house was very genial and active. Felix practised
riding, swimming and other gymnastics with characteristic ardor "to the
utmost"; for skating he could not bear the cold. And what a brilliant and
_élite_ society frequented those large rooms: Rahel Varnhagen, Bettina,
Heine, Holtei, Lindblad, Marx, Humboldt, W. Müller, Hegel,--all famous
then or afterwards! Young people were there "in troops." They had a
little newspaper of their own, called in summer _Garten-Zeitung_, in
winter _Schnee-und Thee-Zeitung_, edited by Felix and Marx, to which
all comers were free to contribute; paper, ink and pens lay ready in
the summer-houses. Graver heads, like Humboldt and Zelter, used the
opportunity! "In all this brilliant interchange of art, science and
literature," says Grove, "Felix, even at this early date, was the
prominent figure. When he entered the room every one was anxious to
speak to him. Women of double his age made love to him; and men, years
afterwards, treasured every word that fell from his lips."
During the next winter, hearing a complaint that Bach seemed like an
arithmetical exercise, Felix formed a choir of sixteen voices for the
practice of the _Passion Music_ at his house. That led to the public
performance of the great neglected master-work a year later; and that to
the "Bachgesellschaft" for the stately publication of all Bach's works,
not yet completed. The little choir warmed to the heavenly music, and
grew eager for its public performance, under Felix's own care, by the
three to four hundred voices of the Singakademie, of which Zelter was
Director. Besides the intrinsic difficulty of the music, there were two
serious obstacles: the opposition of Zelter, and the apathy of the public.
The first was overcome with the sanguine aid of his friend Devrient,
the actor, who with him faced the lion in his den, and made him finally
consent. The second melted to enthusiasm before the splendid success of
the performance. Felix conducted the rehearsals without notes, knowing
the music all by heart; the leading opera singers undertook the solos;
the public flocked to the rehearsals; and on Wednesday, March 11, 1829,
this greatest choral work of the great old master composer was introduced
to the world for the first time since his death. A thousand people were
turned away from the doors. Said Felix: "It was an actor and a Jew who
restored this great Christian work to the people." That was the dawn of
the Bach culture, which steadily if slowly gains ground in these our
modern times.
In the midst of this excitement, his gifted, darling sister Fanny became
engaged to William Hensel, the distinguished Berlin painter. Mendelssohn
had reached the age of twenty. Not on the best terms with the musical
world of Berlin, he yearned for more congenial air and stimulus. To
improve himself in art and general culture, and "to make friends," he set
out on his "grand tour." He arrived in London (April 21), where he was
welcomed by his friends Klingemann (then secretary of legation there)
and Moscheles. At the Philharmonic Concert, May 25, he conducted his
C-minor Symphony, old John Cramer leading him to the piano, at which in
those days, the conductor sat or stood. The applause was immense, and the
Scherzo (which he had scored from his Octet, in place of the Minuet and
Trio) was persistently encored against his wish. The London reception had
"wiped out the sneers and misunderstandings of Berlin." Near the close of
his life he spoke of it as "having lifted a stone from his heart." Indeed,
the English, from that day to this, have been warm, even to the extreme
of partiality, in their enthusiasm for the man and for his music. He took
part in several other London concerts, was much petted in aristocratic
circles, and disported himself in so many fashionable balls and gaieties,
that the sober family at home became alarmed for him.
From London to Scotland, where he called upon Sir Walter, and stopped
at the Hebrides, sending thence in a glowing letter to Fanny the first
motive of the famous overture which he scored in Rome. Returning to London
in September, he was confined to his room two months and could not go
home to his sister Fanny's wedding. In December he found her with her
artist husband installed in the _Gartenhaus_ as studio, together with
the Devrients. These, indeed every member of the family took part in the
little comedy, _Das Heimkehr aus der Fremde_ ("The Son and Stranger"),
which Felix had composed for his parents' silver wedding. For Hensel,
utterly unmusical, he wrote a part upon one note. That winter he composed
his "Reformation Symphony." A chair of Music was founded expressly for him
in the Berlin University, which he knew himself too well to accept.
In May, 1830, the "grand tour" was resumed. He reached Weimar on the 30th,
spent a fortnight of close intercourse with Goethe, leading what he called
a "heathenish life"; then several very interesting weeks in Munich. Then,
through the Salzkammergut, to Vienna, where he found Haydn, Mozart and
Beethoven ignored in favor of Hummel, Field, and Kalkbrenner; and where
he passed a gay month with musicians, but managed to compose some serious
things.
[Illustration: MENDELSSOHN'S SISTER.
Fanny Mendelssohn--from a pencil drawing made by her husband, William
Hensel.]
Then came the leisurely, long stay in Italy, particularly Rome, of which
his letters give such glowing and minute accounts. There he lived a most
genial and happy life, giving himself up completely to the sunny scene and
climate, to art, and fine churches (of which he found the music dull),
old ruins, and all that was picturesque and characteristic in _roba
di Roma_ of all sorts. He was six months in Rome; six weeks in Naples,
finding there his old friend Benedict, whom he first knew as Weber's pupil
in Berlin; then Florence, Genoa, Milan and the Italian Lakes. In Italy
he composed the "Italian" and "Scotch" Symphonies, the _Walpurgisnacht_
music, and many smaller things. And he filled several drawing-books with
sketches. Then, by way of Switzerland, walking from Geneva to Interlachen
(all minutely, graphically chronicled in the Letters), to Paris again,
where he threw himself into the musical and social "swim." But in spite
of his warm reception, and the presence of Hiller, Meyerbeer, and many
friends, he found the gay metropolis no more to his taste than before, and
was glad to spend two months again in the "smoky nest" of London, playing,
composing, and publishing.
[Illustration: MENDELSSOHN'S WIFE.