On the return journey from Switzerland, Spohr stopped for a few days in Frankfort, in order to be present at the performance of Gluck’s “Iphigenia in Aulis.” The chief characters, Iphigenia and Agamemnon were ably represented by Miss Capitän and Mr. Pischek, and it afforded the more pleasure to Spohr to hear the noble simplicity of this fine music rendered in a satisfactory manner, as his repeated endeavours to introduce an opera of Gluck into the repertory of the Cassel theatre had been always unsuccessful, and he could not hope for any better success for the future.

Scarcely was Spohr returned to Cassel than he began with great zeal a new work, the plan of which he had conceived upon the journey, while in view of the magnificent Swiss mountains and lakes. When once more seated with his wife in the carriage, on his return from the Lucern musical festival, he told her with the greatest joy, that, inspired and refreshed with all the beautiful and pleasing impressions made upon him by nature and art combined,—he felt the strongest impulse to write a truly grand orchestral work, and if possible in some new and more extended form of the symphony. On the half-sportive reply which she made to him: “If the simple symphony does not give sufficient scope to your creative faculty, then write a double symphony for two orchestras, in the style of the double quartet,” he seized the suggestion immediately with much warmth and thereupon sank into a deep reverie, as though he were already beginning the composition, but soon after, added: that, exceedingly attractive as the problem was, it could only be successfully carried out if made subservient to the expression of a determinate idea—and that two orchestras should have given to them respectively the expression of a meaning and sentiment in strong contrast with each other. After long reflection and study; and after successive rejection of many self-proposed formulæ, he at length, as though by inspiration, seized the idea: to represent the two principles of good and evil in the human heart by the two orchestras, and to give the name to the double symphony of “Irdisches und Göttliches im Menschenleben” (the earthly and the divine in the life of man). The first subject should be called “Kinderwelt” (the world of childhood); the second “Zeit der Leidenschaften” (the age of the passions); the third “Endlicher Sieg des Göttlichen” (the final victory of the divine principle); besides which a special explanatory motto was to be given to each theme. After this manner the plan was conceived with a heart overflowing with pleasure, and then carried out with real enthusiasm. As regards the opinion respecting the degree of success with which he achieved the performance of so extremely difficult a task—that was of course a matter to be left entirely to the individuality of the hearers; but in the first performance of the work in Cassel under his own direction and in the spirit of its composer, it excited the greatest admiration in an attentively listening auditory; for while connoisseurs acknowledged the excellence of the music, apart from its special motive or subject, the feelings of the uninitiated were in a high degree moved and satisfied. Such is the report of it contained in one letter out of many written at that time: “Last evening Spohr’s new double symphony for two orchestras took place; the larger and more numerously filled orchestra represented the evil principle, the small one, consisting only of eleven solo instruments represented on the contrary the principle of good. In the subject “The world of childhood” the latter orchestra maintains the superiority in a marked and especial manner; sweet, innocent melodies bring back to us in the most enchanting manner the joys of childhood—its pretty sports, and wiles seem to rise before our vision, and we feel ourselves wholly wrapped in the bright dreams of the past; but the tones of the great orchestra remind us sorrowfully of the reality, and of the struggles of an earthly life scarcely yet begun. This subject, although gaiety is the prominent characteristic, yet speaks to us with a peculiar purity and tenderness of sentiment; and of a surety only a soul as pure and loving as that of our Spohr could so depict in tones the tenderness of the world of childhood.

The second subject: “The victory of the passions,” begins with a very beautiful soft duet between hautboy and clarinet (depicting the first awakening of love), then soon the two orchestras mingle, as it were, wildly and stormily, a true picture of the human heart in the contests of this life; now here now there, the small orchestra is carried away with it, but even then it does not wholly cease to intervene as the good genius with moving and at times warning tones of tenderness. This subject, which is very rich in ideas and harmonies, appeared most to carry away the mass of the public, but the deepest impression made upon every sensitive heart was that made by the third theme: “Eventual victory of the divine principle.” In this, the warning voice of the small orchestra becomes continually more impressive, the earthly passions for the most part become gradually subdued, one almost seems to feel how their force is broken, and then again at frequent intervals they seem to rally, until the solemn moment, in which after a general pause both orchestras at length, in solemn unison of accords announce the victory achieved by the good genius in all its power. From that point nothing but pious, pleasing sounds, as though from the realms of bliss, are heard, now alternately and now from both orchestras in unison, leading as it were the strangely-moved feelings of the auditory to the soft consolatory finale.”

Notices of a similar character—sometimes estimating the work from a purely human, at others from an artistic point of view were received from all sides after the appearance of the symphony, published as Op. 121, by Schuberth of Hamburgh; and then it soon became extensively circulated in the larger towns of Germany and England. This sufficed to afford Spohr the personal satisfaction, that in whichever way his intentions were considered, they were upon the whole rightly understood and estimated.

In November of the same year the Cassel musical world was thrown into a state of joyful excitement by the arrival of Lisst, who had gained the most enthusiastic applause in two concerts, which he gave in the theatre. Previous to his appearance in public, the more restricted circle of the lovers of music, had been greatly gratified by hearing him execute Spohr’s quintet for the pianoforte at a music party given by Spohr for his entertainment, at which he played also several of his own compositions in an insurpassibly masterly style. Spohr took the liveliest interest in the performances of his colleague in art, but he paid him the tribute of his highest admiration for his wonderful playing at sight; and in after years, as a proof of Lisst’s eminent talent in this respect also, he would cheerfully relate, how at a private soiree at Mrs. von der Malsburg’s, accompanied by Spohr on the violin, Lisst played his “Reisesonata” and his only just then published fantasia from the “Alchymist,” which was therefore wholly unknown to Lisst, but which to the great astonishment of all the auditory he played at sight with the most perfect finish.

On the 5th. December of this year the fiftieth anniversary of the death of Mozart was everywhere solemnized by the lovers of music; but as no public festival could be held in Cassel, Spohr got up a private performance of the society of St. Cecilia for the benefit of the poor, which was of a most solemn and impressive character. In the centre of the saloon the bust of Mozart, crowned with a laurel wreath, surmounted an altar hung with black drapery; on one side of the altar was assembled the numerous auditory, and on the other the singers in deep mourning. The “Ave verum” of Mozart was first sung; then a short oration in memoriam followed, and the conclusion was formed by the swan-song of the departed master, his immortal requiem.

In the beginning of the year 1842, Spohr composed six four part-songs, for soprano, alto, tenor and bass (Op. 120, published by Appel in Cassel), then his second trio for pianoforte, violin and violincello, which in the course of the year was followed by a third. These were published by J. Schuberth as Op. 123 and 124.

As during the winter Spohr had felt returning symptoms of his former liver-complaint, he availed himself this time of the summer vacation to go to Carlsbad, to drink the waters; but on the journey thither, at the pressing invitation of Mr. von Holleben, an acquaintance of his youth, and now, grand-master of the hunt at Rudolstadt, he paid him a visit. In the amiable family circle of his early friend the hours passed quickly and pleasantly in the retrospect of their youthful associations, and in the interchange of narratives and incidents of their later life; but amid all these, music was not wanting; and to hear it each time, an increased number of the lovers of music were invited. At these parties Spohr willingly played several of his newest compositions, and more especially afforded universal pleasure with the two trios, in which his wife took the pianoforte part. Upon these occasions he had more especially an enthusiastic auditress in the Princess von Bückeburg, who then resided in Rudolstadt, and who was very desirous of giving a fête at her own house in honour Spohr, had not Mrs. von Holleben, as she afterwards related with much triumph, following the example of the mayor of Norwich (whose comical proceeding towards the bishop of that place Spohr had previously narrated with much humour), declined in the name of her guests, although without previously enquiring of them, every invitation that they received.

During the succeeding month’s stay in Carlsbad, Spohr followed up most conscientiously the prescribed use of the baths and waters, and, besides the enjoined morning walks of several hours’ duration, he after dinner made more distant excursions into the beautiful and by him already previously so much admired environs. Between whiles, however, he managed to devote many hours to the study and practice of his noble art, playing assiduously with his wife, and charming the circle of his more immediate acquaintance with his play. He was forbidden, while taking the waters, to indulge even in a slight degree his constant impulse to the composition of something new; nevertheless during this time he composed a song: “Tears,” by Chamisso, which afterwards appeared in the “Album of Song” of Rudolf Hirsch (published by Bösenberg of Leipzic).

On his return to Cassel, Spohr was painfully moved by the intelligence of the approaching departure of his friend Hauptmann, who had accepted the proffered appointment of Cantor at the Thomas School in Leipzic. However heartily he might have rejoiced to see Hauptmann exchange his place in the court orchestra of Cassel for one so much more befitting and worthy of him, yet for the moment the sentiment of sorrow was the prominent feeling, he that would thenceforth be bereft of the society and intercourse of a man, who through a period of twenty years had stood so near to him both as friend and as colleague in art. As Hauptmann was an active and highly esteemed member of the St. Cecilia society, upon Spohr’s proposition, a farewell festival in his honour was given, at which the musical part of the entertainment consisted chiefly of Hauptmann’s compositions. But as Spohr was desirous of contributing at least one musical piece having especial reference to the occasion, he made choice of the pretty cantata composed by him for the “Golden Wedding” of his parents, which, with altogether new and appropriate words, inspired all hearers with the more interest as Spohr took upon himself the violin obligato part that formed the accompaniment to the pianoforte.

Towards the end of the year Spohr wrote a “concert overture in the serious style” (Op. 121, at Siegel’s, in Leipzic), which was performed at the first of the Casseler subscription concerts, and shortly afterwards at the Gewandhaus concert in Leipzic, and at both places produced the earnest and grandiose effect which the composer had in view. He next, at the repeated solicitations of publisher and friends, tried his hand at a species of composition which he had never till then tried, a sonata for the pianoforte alone, which after having accomplished to his satisfaction, he resolved to dedicate to his friend Mendelssohn. The latter having been made acquainted with it, wrote to him immediately and accompanied the expression of his thanks “for the high and distinguishing honour” with the following words: “If I could but express to you, how deeply I feel what it is to be thus able to call one of your works one’s own particular property, and how my heart joys not alone in the distinction conferred, but equally in your friendly thought of me, and your constant desire for my welfare. A thousand thanks to you for it, dear Mr. Kapellmeister, and rest assured that to the best of my ability I will endeavour to make my now obstinate fingers bring out the beauties of the sonata properly. But that is again only a pleasure that I shall be doing myself, and I should so like to render you one in return for it,” &c. The “obstinate fingers” must nevertheless have soon succumbed to the will of the master, for when upon a subsequent visit to Leipzic, Spohr had the gratification of hearing him play the sonata, it was everything he could have wished, and he recognised in such an execution the ideal which when composing it his fancy had conceived. Shortly afterwards, when it was brought out by Mechetti of Vienna, as Op. 125, and thereby became more widely known, Spohr received many gratifying notices of it from all sides. But he was especially taken by surprise on the receipt of a letter from Hungary, enthusiastic in admiration of the sonata, from the to him wholly unknown director of the choir, Seyler, of the Cathedral of Gran, in which he says among other things: “Times innumerable, in the hours when my duties permit me some relaxation, do I charm myself at the piano with that sonata you dedicated to Mr. Mendelssohn-Bartholdy. Carried away by the magic of its tones I now take up the pen, in behalf of all pianists of feeling who may not always have the opportunity to be enchanted by your greater musical productions, to render you the warmest thanks for this beautiful work.... I would moreover earnestly entreat you to let me know whether we pianists may encourage the hope of having such another composition, with which with two hands alone, we may discourse with the spirit of the world-famed German hero of musical science?” &c. Although this and many other similar testimonies might have fully removed Spohr’s former doubts as to whether he could contribute anything sufficiently satisfactory as a composer for the pianoforte, yet as may be readily imagined it was more in his interest to give his sole attention to the violin as concerted with pianoforte music; and his next works were six duets for pianoforte and violin (Op. 127), but which he could not finish and send in to his publisher Julius Schuberth of Hamburgh, who awaited them with much impatience, till after the lapse of several months, as just at that time he was more than usually occupied in perfecting his orchestra in the study of several larger works. He first of all wished to give Bach’s “Passion” on the coming Good Friday, and although, with the same intention he had previously rehearsed it several times with all the musical strength he could enlist in Cassel, yet years had since then elapsed; and it cost him a very great exertion of his patience and perseverance to bring his orchestra and singers up to such a pitch of excellence as to ensure the public performance of that extremely difficult music in a creditable and worthy manner.

After Spohr had toiled for long months in practising the choruses and the long-wished-for day of performance was drawing nearer and nearer, the required permission of the Prince was suddenly refused, without any reason being assigned for it; and it was not until a second application had been sent in, accompanied (to meet all eventualities) by a certificate of the clergyman, that he considered “the music selected for performance perfectly fitted for the church and for the day,” that the desired permission was granted; and that to the great satisfaction of Spohr and every lover of music in Cassel, it could be performed on the day appointed. But these obstacles repeatedly thrown in the way of its production were very nearly the cause of Spohr’s total departure from Cassel, for at that very time he again received from Prague a very advantageous offer of appointment there, respecting which he wrote as follows to his friend Hauptmann: “I am so weary of all the vexations I meet with here that even at my time of life I could almost make up my mind to leave this place, were not my wife so much attached to her family, and that she would be unhappy away from her friends. The opportunity now presents itself in an offer from the states of Bohemia of the post of director of the Prague conservatory of music vacant by the death of Dionys Weber, as an indemnifaction for the salary I should throw up here. Such a field for exertion and a residence in musical Prague would suit me well. But under the circumstances adverted to above I must of course decline it....” In Hauptmann’s very explicit reply to this he says among other things: “By Spohr’s leaving under the pressure of such existing circumstances, Cassel will become a desert as regards music,” but he nevertheless advises him to leave it without hesitation, and “will not yet relinquish the thought to see him move away from good, beautiful but oppressed Cassel, to majestic Prague.”

But as Spohr in the meanwhile had come to a decision, and of his own impulse allowed his kindly consideration for his wife and her parents to prevail with him, their daily intercourse having become with him also a pleasurable habit, he wrote back in his reply the following few but characteristic words: “The interest and sympathy, which breathes throughout your kind letter was most gratifying to me also in regard to the Prague business. But I had already made up my mind in the interim, and I am glad that my answer declining the offer had been sent to Prague, before my father-in-law knew anything about it, or with tears in his eyes could have to thank me for my decision....”—In this manner Spohr remained in Cassel, to which he had become attached as to a second home, and he continued to discharge his duties with his customary zeal.

He now again gave his attention to the study of a difficult work: “The flying Dutchman” of Richard Wagner, which Spohr proposed to himself to bring out as a festival opera for Whitmonday, having heard much in its praise from Dresden, and upon perusal of the libretto, which had been sent to him, had found the subject so satisfactory in every respect, that he pronounced it a little master-piece, and regretted, “not to have met with a similar and as good a one to set to music, ten years before.” When at the rehearsals he had become more closely acquainted with the opera, he wrote to Lüder respecting it, and invited him to the approaching performance in Cassel: “This work, although somewhat approaching the new-romantic music à la Berlioz, and although it has given me immense work on account of its extreme difficulty, interests me nevertheless in the highest degree, for it is written apparently with true inspiration—and unlike so much of the modern opera music, does not display in every bar the striving after effect, or effort to please. There is a great deal of the fanciful therein; a noble conception throughout, it is well written for the singer; enormously difficult it is true, and somewhat overcharged in the instrumentation, but full of new effects, and will assuredly, when it once comes to be performed in the greater space of a theatre be thoroughly clear and intelligible. The theatre rehearsals begin at the end of this week, and I am exceedingly desirous to see how the fantastic subject and the still more fantastic music will come off en scène. I think I am so far correct in my judgment, when I consider Wagner as the most gifted of all our dramatic composers of the present time. In this work at least his aspirations are noble, and that pleases me at a time when all depends upon creating a sensation, or in effecting the merest ear-tickling,” &c. Notwithstanding the apparent almost insurmountable difficulties, Spohr succeeded in giving one performance, which left nothing to be desired, and the work was most favourably received by the public. In full satisfaction to the author he felt impelled to write to Wagner to make him acquainted with it; upon which the latter in the fulness of his joy replied: “My very esteemed sir and master, I was really obliged to recover myself somewhat from the joy—from the rapture I may say—which your extremely kind letter afforded me, before I could undertake to write, and express to you the gratitude of my heart.... In order to enable you to understand the extraordinary emotion your intelligence produced in me, I must first calmly explain what were my expectations in regard to the success of this opera. From the unusually great difficulties which it presented I could expect but little from it, however good the musical and dramatic strength with which it might be put upon the stage, unless there was a man at their head who, endowed with peculiar energetic capacity and goodwill, would espouse my interests with predilection and in the face of every obstacle. That you, my highly-esteemed master, possessed beyond all others the qualifications for so energetic a direction, I well knew,—but whether you would consider my work sufficiently worthy of your attention to take so decided an interest in it, that was certainly the very natural doubt that made me despair more and more, the nearer the day of its announced performance approached; so that I confess I had not the courage to go to Cassel, to become personally a witness to my shame and to the realisation of all my fears. But I now see indeed that a lucky star has risen over me, since I have gained the sympathy of a man from whom an indulgent notice only would have been sufficient fame for me:—but to see him take the most decisive and crowning measures in my behalf, is a piece of good fortune which assuredly distinguishes me above many, and which really for the first time fills me with a sentiment of pride, such as hitherto no applause of the public could have awakened in me” &c. With equal gratitude and kindliness Wagner acknowledged the correctness of the omissions made by Spohr in the opera, in the which he “recognised but further proof of the true interest he had evinced for him,” and this he reiterated in all his subsequent letters with the warmest expressions of attachment and esteem.

With the commencement of the theatrical vacation, Spohr made preparations for the journey to London, where he hoped to receive satisfaction for the disappointment of the refusal of leave absence in the previous autumn, to proceed to Norwich to conduct the much-talked-of performance of his oratorio, “The fall of Babylon.” For months previously the committee had applied to that effect through the embassy at Cassel, to the Prince, but had met with a summary refusal, upon which Spohr received several letters from England, expressing how much they felt aggrieved by it, and lord Aberdeen especially, who had authorised the application to the Prince through the medium of the English embassy. Upon this the committee met in Norwich and sent a deputation to London to the duke of Cambridge, who expressed himself willing to write personally to the Prince in the most pressing terms. But without avail; after a lapse of two months his application was refused also, and both he and the whole royal family were not a little hurt by it. In Norwich, meanwhile, it was thought that every means had not yet been exhausted, and to Spohr’s extreme surprise he suddenly received an enormous petition signed by a considerable number of the inhabitants of Norwich, beseeching the Prince in the interests of that city to allow Spohr to direct his oratorio there. Although he himself had now little hope of a favourable issue to this prayer, he was nevertheless greatly moved by the receipt of so imposing a document, and awaited a reply with the greatest anxiety. This however did not come; but the Hessian minister for foreign affairs, von Steuber, wrote the following letter to the wife of Mr. von der Malsburg, grand marshall of the court, by whom the petition had been presented: “I have to announce to your Excellency that I delivered the petition in question, and urged personally all the circumstances detailed therein, but as you yourself feared, there is no hope of a successful result” &c.—

Although Spohr could not personally share in the triumph which this new oratorio achieved for him in England, he nevertheless received almost daily detailed epistolary accounts of the success of the festival, and at length also a whole box full of newspapers of every shade of politics, which seemed almost to vie with each other in expressions of admiration of his work. Of these, some few of the most conspicuous and characteristic in style of comment may here be cited: “The Times” says among other things: “The gem of the festival was Spohr’s oratorio. The text is written with especial regard to the nature and the character of an oratorio, and the subject which Spohr has illustrated by the exercise of his talent is especially favourable to its exhibition. Three nations are represented: the captive Hebrews, the luxurious Babylonians and the Persians in their pride of conquest: these furnish materials for the most varied musical treatment by the composer, of which he has availed himself in the most admirable manner, and thoroughly understood how to adhere throughout the music to the identity and nationality of the different nations. His peculiar genius for the invention of beautiful melodies, and his power to enrich these with appropriate harmonies is also preminently conspicuous in this splendid work.” After a detailed analysis of the separate “numbers” it is further said: “The general opinion of the oratorio is this: It is a master piece of art, worthy to rank with “Die letzten Dingen” and “Des Heilands letzten Stunden.” Emphatic as this praise may be, it is nevertheless just. Though from the same hand, the work is nevertheless essentially different from these. The former excite feelings of deep devotion and christian piety, in the latter we distinguish the character of the deity more in its majesty and omnipotence; Jehovah displays himself to us in acts of power by dooming the ungodly to punishment. The work fulfils all the conditions of a true oratorio, and its performance was a triumph of English art. One thing only was deeply and generally deplored, that Spohr was prevented from being present at this triumph.” In the Morning Chronicle, after similar enthusiastic expressions of opinion, follows: “In a word, the music is characterised by the whole power and peculiarity of Spohr’s genius, and we may boldly assert that it is the grandest work written since the days of Händel.”—The immense crowd that pressed forward to the hall to witness the performance is adverted to by all the papers, and the Morning Herald especially, speaks of it thus: “Although to hear Spohr’s oratorio an unusually numerous auditory was to be expected, yet no one could have formed an idea of what actually occurred. From an early hour in the morning carriages arrived in numbers, filled with the rank and beauty of the county.... The whole interior of the building was immediately filled; where a resting-place could be found for one foot only, fool-hardy individuals were to be seen located in the most dangerous situations, and every one seemed determined to endure the greatest inconvenience rather than forego the pleasure of hearing Spohr’s oratorio. Many persons clambered up to the roof, and from thence in at the window, but numbers were compelled to remain outside, and content themselves with looking down from their dizzy height upon the crowds below. This is no exaggeration, but strictly true; and that such a degree of interest should have been evinced for a new musical work, is certainly an event that stands alone in the history of music,” &c. While Spohr found at home a cheering distraction in these gratifying accounts, his admirers and friends in England were considering how to make him some compensation for his loss, and before the close of the year he received an invitation to London during his next vacation, to conduct his oratorio.

Upon Spohr’s arrival in London in June 1843, Professor Taylor, who had conducted his oratorio at Norwich, in his stead, and who had discharged that difficult task most creditably, had so far made all the preliminary preparations that after a few rehearsals, its performance could take place at the Hanover Square Rooms to his full satisfaction. The public also gave vent to their enthusiasm, with the most reiterated and demonstrative applause, and at the conclusion greeted him with three cheers. Nevertheless all those who had been present at the festival in the fine St. Andrew’s Hall at Norwich, were not by any means satisfied that Spohr had not been permitted to hear his work under equally favourable circumstances, in all its grandeur, and he received the invitation to direct a second grander performance, which the Sacred Harmonic Society were desirous of giving with their chorus of five hundred voices in the large concert-room of Exeter Hall. But as he had proposed to himself to devote the yet remaining week’s leave of absence to a journey to Wales, of the scenery of which he had heard so much spoken in praise, and as the time moreover appeared to him much too short for a careful study of his oratorio, he returned an answer declining the invitation. Upon subsequent pressing solicitation, nevertheless, and repeated conferences, he at length yielded, and it was then agreed that the requisite rehearsals should be made during Spohr’s absence, so that he would have nothing more to do than to take upon himself the direction of the performance, and meanwhile he could proceed undisturbed upon his projected journey. Highly necessary to him, also, was such a refreshing change of scene after the almost overwhelming fatigues of the musical entertainments and dinner-parties of the preceding weeks, at the greater part of which he himself took an active share in the performances. At the last concert of the Philharmonic Society, in which he directed the performance of several of his compositions: “Die Weihe der Töne,” the overture to the “Alchymist,” and the flower duet from “Jessonda,” but first himself executed his concertino in E major upon the violin, he was, as recorded by the “Spectator”—“welcomed like a Prince, the whole company rising spontaneously from their seats to salute him” ... and when he had concluded his artistic and indescribably charming play, the irrepressible outbursts of delight shewed how completely he had touched the heart-strings of his auditory. At the end of the concert the directors conveyed to him moreover the wishes of the queen, that he would play once more in an extra-concert to be given for that purpose. As he could not well refuse this, the concert took place a week afterwards, and comprised in its compendious programme among other things a symphony of Mozart, the ninth symphony of Beethoven, with the choruses, and three of Spohr’s compositions: concertino in A major, the overture to “Macbeth,” and Tristan’s air in “Jessonda,” in which Staudigl was twice encored.

Respecting the further circumstances of the concert a letter written home contains the following: “The extra-concert of yesterday was a very brilliant success, and afforded us high enjoyment. The appearance there of the Queen was an event of which all the newspapers and everybody also spoke beforehand with much interest; as since her coronation she had never yet appeared at one. When she entered the room, dressed in a plain black robe, but wearing a good many diamonds, the public clapped their hands and rose from their seats, upon which the soli and chorus sang “God save the Queen” with great effect. During the entre-acte, the Queen sent for Spohr to the adjoining apartment, where she discoursed with him for some time in a very flattering manner, and advised him during his further journey in England to travel incognito, otherwise in every town he would be annoyed and intruded upon in the same manner as in London. Prince Albert and the King of the Belgians entered also into conversation with him, and he was much edified by their remarks. Several persons whom we knew, who sat near the Queen, laid great stress upon the circumstance that upon Spohr’s appearance in the orchestra, she and her husband bowed very profoundly, and clapped their hands very warmly,” &c. At further music parties he experienced great pleasure in hearing his trios, quartets, airs and duets from his operas, and songs, executed with the most perfect finish, and was always much delighted with the wonderfully pure execution of the favorite English glees. Upon these occasions he was not at all disturbed by the enormous quantity of musical pieces which were brought forward, for with his inexhaustible nerve and power of endurance he was fortunately enabled to compete with the English.

As a curiosity of the kind the following programme may be adduced, of a musical festival got up by Mr. Alsager, then co-editor of the Times, in honour of Spohr:

Queen Square Select Society.

Musical Festival in Honour of the arrival of Spohr in London.

Sunday July 2, 1843.

This festival, which was in every respect successful, and got up with princely magnificence, must have been the more gratifying to Spohr, when he saw how the company, consisting of fifty persons, listened until late in the evening with admirable perseverance and wrapped attention to his tones, without evincing the least sign of weariness. When gratified beyond measure by a festive testimonial so unusual, he felt called upon to express his very great thanks to Mr. Alsager, he found to his great surprise on the following day among the mass of letters which he constantly received, one also from him expressing his heartfelt thanks, which concluded as follows: “May you enjoy all the happiness that can result from the consciousness that you are a benefactor to the world and communicate happiness to others in a circle still increasing and never ending.”

Upon their pleasure trip on the 12th July Spohr and his wife were accompanied by Professor Taylor, in whom they found both a well-informed and amiable guide and companion. They visited Winchester, Portsmouth, Southampton, Bath, Bristol and Wales. With the natural beauties of the latter Spohr was so much charmed that in many parts he considered them to surpass Switzerland, and all that he had ever seen. On the return journey to London, he was loud in his expressions of admiration of the beauties of Cheltenham, and of the fine university of Oxford. Though in accordance with the advice of the Queen he had thought to make this little journey incognito; nevertheless his arrival soon became known in each town, and the composer of “Die letzten Dinge,” the pianoforte arrangement of which he found in almost every house, was received by every one after his own manner, with the highest honours, upon which occasions many incidents occurred that either greatly amused or moved him. Meanwhile, in London, every possible exertion had been made, and upon his return, Spohr found that his oratorio had been studied with such faultless precision, that as he wrote word in a letter home “at the grand rehearsal he was really much moved both with its excellent execution, and the conviction that such a number of persons totally stranger to him, and for the most part engaged in business (who in London have indeed but little leisure time) should have devoted their evenings to a late hour, during his absence of eight days, to the study of this difficult work, from pure love of it, and to afford him an agreeable surprise.”

The performance itself is then thus described: “Imagine a gigantic hall with places for 3000 persons, crammed full, head above head; in a balcony apart, as the bill expresses it ‘Madame Spohr and Friends’ looking down upon the scene. Opposite the magnificent and stupendous organ and on all sides around it, an orchestra and choir of singers numbering five hundred persons, grouped in the most charming manner; in that orchestra Spohr enters, and at the same moment the whole public and orchestra rise from their seats, all waving handkerchiefs and hats and shouting long and loudly altogether “Bravo, Hurrah!” But no sooner did Spohr lift his baton than all sat down, and a deep silence of anxious attention reigned. Then resounded through the spacious hall the first moving accords of the overture, like music from another sphere. The whole performance proceeded now grandly and as though with one impulsive inspiration in all. A solemn thrilling emotion pervaded us, and at many powerful passages, such as “Er regiert auf ewig (he rules for ever) Hallelujah!”—“Du nur allein bist Gott” &c. (Thou, and Thou only art God),—then it was as though all mankind had assembled to praise God with the purest harmony. But doubly wonderful at such outbursts of powerful grandeur is the ever-recurring entry at the right moment of the tenderest shades of expression.... Three airs and the grand chorus of the Persians were encored with vehement acclamation. At the conclusion the people, at a loss to find a new and further way of expressing their rapture, demonstrated it more prominently by mounting at once upon the benches. When at length Spohr had made his way through the mass of those who pressed forward to shake hands with and congratulate him as he passed on to the door of the hall, I observed with astonishment that the whole company remained behind, and whispered to each other, which induced me to think something important was still to take place; when after a time the noise broke out anew and Spohr was again vehemently called for. Upon this two gentlemen led him back once more, and having informed him that the public much wished him to address a few words to them, he at length determined to do so, and made a short speech in German, which although they did not understand, was very gratefully received by the assembly. Hereupon the President stepped forward, and having delivered a long address to Spohr in English, which was repeatedly interrupted by applause and cries of “Hear! hear!” he presented to him in the name of the company a large silver salver with a beautifully engraved inscription commemorative of the evening festival,” &c.—This solemn concluding scene crowned all that Spohr had yet experienced, and the sad moment of parting from hospitable England now approached. Spohr himself was painfully moved by it, although the earnest solicitations of every kind which poured in upon him, gave him little time for calm reflection. Daily from various quarters did he receive the blank sheets of albums with the request for some souvenir from his own hand, many of which yet awaited their execution and kept him occupied at his writing-table up to the time of his departure. After he had satisfied these last requests even, and at length embarked on board the steamer, he good humouredly remarked to the crowd of friends and admirers who had collected to bid him farewell: “There is now indeed scarcely a lover of music in England who has not my autograph,”—the steamer was hailed from the shore, and on looking in that direction he saw a boat rowing fast towards them, and shortly, several gentlemen came on board, bearing numerous albums that had arrived too late, with the entreaty that Spohr would write something in each during the journey down to Gravesend, whither they would accompany him with that view! Actually also, did Spohr comply, and writing, he left the shores of England, and so made the parting moments somewhat less painful to him!

Early in the month of October 1843, a meeting of the Philological Society was to take place in Cassel, and the generally expressed wish to honour the same with some musical performances was the more natural, from the means necessary thereto being more especially at command there. Upon Spohr’s recommendation the president of the society and Gymnasial-Director Weber proposed the performance of “Antigone” at the theatre, with Mendelssohn’s choruses; and Spohr expressed himself ready to comply with the wishes of the magistracy to give a performance of his oratorio: “Der Fall Babylons” in the church, for the benefit of the poor of the city. As, however, the permission of the Prince could not be obtained for both, the foreign guests were obliged to content themselves with a private performance of “Antigone” in the spacious hall where they held their sittings, upon which occasion Councillor Niemeyer read the tragedy, and the choruses were sung with accompaniment of two pianofortes by the singers of the men’s choral society under Spohr’s direction. In this manner all went off very effectingly, and the strangers were so well content that they not only expressed their most heartfelt thanks to Spohr for his exertions, but at their next sitting, (at which he assisted with much interest) unanimously voted also a letter of thanks to Mendelssohn. Spohr himself was also so much pleased with the spirited and truly original music “that he now exceedingly desired to hear it also with full orchestral treatment.” But as under the present overruling circumstances in Cassel this was not to be achieved, he shortly afterwards gave a repetition of the reading of the tragedy in the same manner, for a charitable purpose, but in a more spacious building, by which means a wider circle of the lovers of music were enabled for the first time to become acquainted with the interesting work.

About this time Spohr began to turn his mind seriously to the composition of another opera, which probably arose from the frequency with which the libretto of operas were sent to him. But as none of them satisfied him, and as upon a closer examination, either the treatment of the subject or the form of the musical pieces did not suit him, he conceived the idea of writing with the assistance of his wife the text of a libretto, and chose for subject the once favorite drama of Kotzebue: “The Crusaders,” which seemed to him particularly adapted to the object he had this time in view, namely, an entire deviation from the customary form, as well as from the style, of his own previous opera music; in composing the whole throughout as a musical drama, without unnecessary repetitions of the text and ornamentations, and with a constantly progressing development in the treatment. As soon as the libretto was completed, he set to work with great spirit, and in a short time completed the first act, which he immediately arranged for the pianoforte, and had performed in his house by a select number of the best dilettanti, in order to convince himself of the success of his work, before he proceeded further with it. When he became satisfied how clearly and intelligibly, even without the aid of scenic representations, the lifelike expression of his music depicted the different characters and situations, and how powerfully both singers and auditory were impressed by it, he proceeded with confidence with the next act, and finished that also, all but the instrumentation, before the commencement of the theatrical vacation.

As object of his customary summer journey Spohr had selected Paris, in order to shew his wife the grandeur of that brilliant capital, and to visit at the same time the international exhibition of industry, which, as the first of its kind, had so greatly excited public attention, that strangers from every quarter of the globe flocked to it to behold the endless treasures in every department of manufacturing industry, and to admire the products of art. With the daily concourse of the visitors it was however almost impossible to obtain an undisturbed and attentive view; it was therefore matter of no small self-congratulation for Spohr and his wife to receive a ticket of admission procured by especial favour upon a day that had been set apart for the King’s visit to the exhibition, when exhibitors only were permitted to be present. By this means they were also furnished with the rare opportunity of seeing the venerable Louis Philippe, accompanied by his wife, his sister Adelaide, and the then still very youthful Duke de Montpensier, pass close before them, and to hear distinctly the King’s remarks upon the various manufactures displayed.

At a season of the year so unfavourable for musical performances of any consequence, Spohr could scarcely hope to enjoy that gratification, but there, in a foreign land he had the unhoped-for satisfaction of an enjoyment he had vainly endeavoured to obtain at home, that namely of assisting at a performance of “Antigone” with Mendelssohn’s choruses, which on that evening had been given for the thirty-second time in succession at the Odéon theatre to constantly crowded houses, and Spohr was deeply impressed with the excellence of the music and of the scenic arrangements.

But although the best musicians were for the most part absent from Paris, he nevertheless passed some very pleasant hours in the society of Mr. Habenec (director of the conservatory), Panseron, Halevy, Auber, Berlioz, Adam, &c. On the part of the conservatory it was also greatly wished to shew him some mark of attention, although under the circumstances some difficulty was experienced in doing so, as appears from a notice in a Parisian journal, in the following words: “Mais que faire pour prouver à l’auteur de ‘Faust’ et de ‘Jessonda’ que la France sait apprécier dignement ses belles compositions et leur auteur? Une idée vient soudain à un ami de Mr. Habenec: ‘L’époque des magnifiques concerts du Conservatoire est passée! dit-il; eh bien! écrivons partout, réunissons une partie de nos artistes, et essayons de tresser une petite couronne à Spohr, en exécutant devant lui un de ses plus beaux morceaux.’ Le projet est approuvé, on n’avait que quelques jours pour le mettre en œuvre. Des circulaires sont adressées à vingt, trente lieues de Paris. Des hommes d’un talent supérieur, qui n’auraient pas quitté leur dolce far niente à prix d’argent, se hâtent d’accourir, et la Société des Concerts, à l’exception de deux de ses membres qui sont maintenant en Italie, se trouve réunie à Paris comme un seul homme. La salle du Conservatoire est ouverte, tons les exécutants s’y rendent, et Spohr y est amené comme spectateur unique; c’est pour lui seul que soixante-dix-huit musiciens sont là, c’est aux pieds de sa gloire qu’ils viennent se prosterner, et lui font entendre son chef-d’œuvre symphonique: ‘La création de la Musique’ (‘Weihe der Töne’).”

Upon Spohr’s entry into the room he was greeted with loud applause, and addressed in a speech by Mr. Habenec, who invited him to direct his symphony in person, as at the next winter concerts, the society intended to perform it, and it would therefore be of the utmost value to all, to be initiated by the personal direction of the composer himself into its mode of performance. In reality, also, many indications and repetitions were necessary upon the occasion, until every thing, went satisfactorily; but Beethoven’s pastoral symphony, which followed, and had been frequently played, was executed with that masterly precision for which that orchestra was so celebrated.

On the following day Spohr set out on his return to Cassel, which he again left after the lapse of a few weeks, to comply with an invitation from his native town of Brunswick, where they had long desired to give a grand musical festival in his honour, and had therefore made arrangements to have a performance of his oratorio the “Fall of Babylon,” at the end of September.

On his way thither he received a foretaste of the Brunswick festivities, at Seesen, where he slept the first night, and where he had passed the first years of his childhood; the inhabitants of that place having been thereby induced to believe that it was really his birth-place. He was greatly surprised at being welcomed immediately upon his arrival here with a kind and most hearty address and ushered with much ceremony into the handsomely decorated grand room of the hotel, where he found disposed in a wide semicircle, symmetrically arranged, a selection from all the musical talent of the young folks of Seesen, with the members of the choral society of that place; who, besides singing several songs, executed a chorus from “Die letzten Dingen” and a pleasing poem composed especially for the occasion, addressed to Spohr, and arranged for four voices.

Brunswick was no less demonstrative in celebrating the presence of its illustrious guest, and detailed notices of an impromptu festival given to Spohr are furnished by several letters, in which the brilliant external display, as well as the expressive and appropriately arranged musical entertainment, appealed with equal force and charm to the heart and mind. A cantata set to music by Methfessel for female voices and chorus, “Welcome to Spohr,” was first sung, with a soft accompaniment of wind instruments placed out of sight in the background, and executed by them in the most finished manner. But scarcely had the guest so honoured time to express his thanks at the conclusion of this pretty song, when quite unexpectedly, and in striking contrast with it, a powerful chorus of male voices from the opposite side of the hall began a second “festive song to Spohr,” which prepared the minds of all for the enjoyment of the subsequent more exhilarating festivities.

On the following day Spohr directed the performance of his oratorio: “The fall of Babylon,” in the Ægydian church, which was here also executed with great spirit, and was well received. The circumstance that its performance took place in the same church in which more than 60 years before he was baptised as an infant greatly increased the interest of the day, and gave occasion to several other poetic effusions.

A grand concert of a mixed kind concluded the festivities of the day; the first part of which comprised the overture to “King Lear” by Berlioz, directed by Kapellmeister Müller, airs from “Oberon” and “Jessonda” an adagio for violin by Spohr, executed by concert-director Müller, and Maurer’s concertante for four violins (played by Müller, Zimmermann, C. Müller jun. and Jean Bott of Cassel); the second part consisted of Spohr’s fifth symphony, C minor. Thus ended this pleasing festival, the heartfelt pleasure at which was alone saddened to Spohr by thoughts of his beloved father, who, up to the few months preceeding his death in Brunswick had passed the last years of his life in Seesen, but who, after watching for years at a distance the career of his son with pleasurable pride, could now no longer be a witness of the high esteem and honour shewn to him by his native town.

At the end of the year Spohr received an invitation to a grand musical festival at New-York—the first from that side of the Ocean, to the direction of which he had been unanimously selected at a general meeting of the society of music of that city, “as the first of all living composers and directors of music.” There were to be two performances of sacred and two of secular music, and above all his oratorio of the “Fall of Babylon”—“the fame of which had spread from England to the new world,” was to take precedence. Although such a proposal might have had great attractions for Spohr, and have yet more incited his constant love of travel; and although in New York he would have moreover the pleasure of seeing again his daughter Emily, who with her husband and child had emigrated there some years before, yet he soon made up his mind to decline it, as a residence there of the few weeks only which the duties of his place would have perhaps permitted, would scarcely have compensated for the fatigues of a long voyage.

On New Year’s Day 1845, Spohr’s new opera, “The Crusaders,” was performed for the first time; and not only upon the first night, but upon the quickly succeeding further performances, it met with an unexampled brilliant reception for Cassel. Spohr, who had looked forward with particularly anxious expectation to the success of this work, was much gratified at this result, and wrote to his friend Hesse as follows: “That my opera should have made so deep and lasting an impression upon the public, the lesser number of which only consisted of musically educated persons, I ascribe to the truthful character of my music, which aims only at representing the situation perfectly, and discards all the flimsy parade of modern opera-music, such as florid instrumental soli and noisy effects.[39] And I was furthermore exceedingly pleased that the singers, who did not find in their parts anything of that which usually gains for them the applause of the crowd, evinced nevertheless at every rehearsal a greater interest in it, and a zeal to study such as I never before observed in them. But the result shews also, that this style of song, which is so convenient for every one, and affords the opportunity of displaying the best tones, and the degree of feeling and expression which each is capable of, is a very grateful one; for never were our singers so applauded, and after the second performance they were all called for together on the stage.” The newspapers having circulated a great deal in praise of the new opera, and it having become more extensively known by the pianoforte arrangement which was shortly afterwards published by J. Schuberth, it was soon announced for performance at other theatres in Germany, viz. at Berlin, Dresden, Brunswick and Detmold; but in other (catholic) cities, like Munich, Vienna &c., objection was taken to the libretto, which had been asked for examination, and therefore the performance was abstained from.

As Spohr was invited to direct personally the first performance of his “Crusaders” at Berlin, he was desirous that this should take place during his theatrical vacation; and although he was apprised from there that it was the most unfavourable season of the year for it, as the chief characters of his opera could not be satisfactorily represented till after the return of the absent principal singers, he nevertheless though it more advisable to do without their assistance, than by a longer delay to make the possibility of his coming a matter of uncertainty.

At the beginning of the holidays he therefore set out on the journey, but first to Oldenburg, to direct a grand concert there, the receipts from which were destined for the institution of a pension fund for the members of the orchestra there.

The programme had been previously cast by A. Pott, the resident director, his former pupil and enthusiastic admirer, and consisted wholly of Spohr’s compositions, viz. concert overture in the serious style; latest violin concerts in E minor, executed by the composer; duett from “Jessonda” sung by Mrs. Schmidt of Bremen and Mr. **; clarinet concerto, played by Mr. Köhn, member of the ducal orchestra; grand symphony in C minor (No. 5); the “Lord’s Prayer,” for solo, chorus, and orchestra.

Upon Spohr’s arrival he found the whole of the musical pieces (the last two of which he himself directed) so well practised under Pott’s direction, that at the rehearsal he was greatly pleased by it. At the public performance, also, every thing went off so well, that Mrs. Spohr expresses herself in a letter home as follows: “We felt as though we had been suddenly transported to England. The music, the finished execution, the spacious, densely filled, and splendidly acoustic building, the enthusiastic applause and admiration—all were in truth grandly English. And all this was doubly surprising and gratifying when one thinks that this took place in a small town with a population of only 12,000. Orchestra and singers, three hundred persons in all, worked together with wonderful harmony. Every piece of music was excellent, but the impression made by the ‘Lord’s Prayer’ was quite indescribable, and the words in which Pott shortly before expressed himself to Spohr, after a rehearsal of it: ‘Happy is the man who can pray with such intense devotion; peace must indeed dwell in his soul,’ presented themselves here in their full import to my mind. Spohr, also, was of my opinion that he had never heard the piece so well played, for even in the finest shades of the expression there was nothing more to be desired. The whole platform from which Spohr led the orchestra, and the steps leading to it, were strewn with the finest roses; the whole front of the orchestra was decorated with wreaths; and beneath his bust, crowned with laurel, were the words ‘Louis Spohr’ in gigantic letters, composed of roses and laurel artistically interwoven. While the assembly were listening with the deepest attention to the splendid tones, it was little imagined by any one how every enjoyment was embittered to Spohr, by a sudden seizure with cramp in the stomach, which soon became so intense, as he himself afterwards related, that when conducting the symphony and the ‘Lord’s Prayer’ he had great difficultly in keeping himself erect. After the concert we were to have assisted at another fête, given by the minister von Beaulieu at his house, in honour of Spohr; but under the circumstances this became impossible, and we hastened home with all speed, where, having arrived, Spohr went immediately to bed, and was obliged to resort to sedatives; but the cramp would not yield to them, and the doctor who was called in, vainly endeavoured to afford him relief, so that the pain became intense. At this very moment when Spohr lay in such a sad condition of suffering that he expected every moment would be his last, a singular and striking contrast was presented to his position, by a monster torch-light procession followed by a large concourse of the inhabitants of Oldenburg, which halted under our windows, and began a grand serenade with the overture and several choruses from ‘Jessonda,’ performed by all the native and foreign musicians then in Oldenburg, together with three choral societies. Many other pieces were to have been performed, but by Spohr’s wish, Pott availed himself of the opportunity when a loud cheer was raised by the crowd, to address them in his name from the window in a speech of thanks, which, although improvised, was as well put together and delivered as though he had long previously studied it. But when he acquainted them with Spohr’s illness also, a general depression spread immediately through all present, and the previously so joyous assembled serenaders, withdrew in silent sadness. In our house, meanwhile, all was remarkably lively: the hostess, Mrs. Oppermann, wife of the Councillor Oppermann of the high court of appeal, was entertaining two carriage-loads of guests who had come to the concert, together with all her acquaintance, who had assembled below to be enabled to hear the serenade music better. In strange contrast with these intervened the various attendances to the necessities of our patient, the messages to the apothecary, my agony of mind—in fact, it was a situation singular indeed of its kind.

“At midnight the physician came again, wrote some new prescriptions, and gave fresh instructions, but all in vain; the attacks of the cramp lasted till near 3 o’clock, when they became at length less violent, and by degrees entirely ceased. But as the doctor was of opinion this morning that the motion of the carriage might be prejudicial to the invalid, we have deferred our departure, and the more so, as we could be nowhere better off than here, where we receive the kindest attention and care from the whole household, and everything that the heart can wish is at our service. To-day, Spohr received from the Grand-duke a splendid diamond ring as a ‘souvenir of Oldenburg,’ which greatly surprised and pleased him. The Grand-duke had intended to place the ring himself on his finger at the dinner to which he had invited him, but this also was defeated by the illness that overtook him,” &c.

Spohr having determined by the advice of the physician to proceed as soon as possible direct from Oldenburg to the baths of Carlsbad, and devote the remainder of his vacation to the re-establishment of his health by drinking the waters, he thought he should no longer be able to fulfill his promises—to direct his “Jessonda” at Bremen, and the first performance of the “Crusaders” at Berlin—wherefore with a heavy heart he sent off letters announcing his inability to proceed to those places.

Meanwhile, however, the remarkable efficacy of the Carlsbad waters, which he had already several times experienced, evinced itself again upon him in so satisfactory a manner, that in the very first week of his stay the idea suggested itself to him, to remain for the present but a fortnight only in Carlsbad, and defer following up the cure of its waters to the following summer, so that his so unwillingly abandoned purpose of proceeding to Berlin might yet be carried out. In this hope he continued the course of baths with such unwearied perseverance and unswerving confidence that he was enabled to reach Berlin in sufficient time to assume personally the direction of his “Crusaders.”

At the first grand rehearsal, in which he was introduced by Meyerbeer and Councillor Küstner to the assembled company of the theatre, he became convinced that his work had been studied with particular pleasure and predilection, and the song parts, although not filled by stars of the first magnitude, were nevertheless impersonated, as regarded the chief and secondary characters, in a thoroughly satisfactory manner. On the evening of the performance he was received upon his appearance with the greatest enthusiasm by the public, and loudly called for after every act. On the following night the opera was repeated with the same brilliant success. The public papers contained also the most favourable notices of each, and the “Vossische Zeitung” especially gave an article from the pen of Rellstab to this effect: “We have to speak of an event in art that will occupy one of the most prominent and honourable places in the history of our stage—the first performance of Louis Spohr’s new opera, “The Crusaders.” The merits of the master have already made themselves so prominently conspicuous, and the worth of that which we possess in him is so fully acknowledged, that it is not necessary even to speak of the character of his music nor of its effects upon the development of art in the present day.... What we had to expect as a whole, every body knew who knows the artistic direction of Spohr’s genius—and who does not know it? That we should hear a work that might be ranked with the noblest of the kind to which the composer has adhered throughout his whole life, was to be expected. But we must frankly confess, we had not dared to hope for so much freshness, so many instances of fiery power, as the now more than sexagenarian master actually gives us! Throughout the whole, he is the same we have long known; but in many circumstances of the detail he presents us with numerous gifts of new and finished excellence—and also of frequent brilliancy. His muse has never addressed herself to the crowd: she never sought to seduce by coquettish and alluring advances; her language, her movements have been alone animated by a noble spiritual inspiration, and sought to win the heart by purity and dignity. We had at first intended to indicate the most prominently beautiful passages, which we consider it just to particularise; but we soon found them so numerous, that we were compelled to content ourselves with a selection. In the first act we recall to mind the singular freshness of Baldwin’s greeting; Emma’s devout song: “Dass ich die Braut des Himmels bin,” the effective and ominous mingling of the tolling of the funeral bell in the discourse with the porteress; the first strong physiognomic delineations of the abbess Celestina, in the words: “Ich kenne Dein Geschlecht—Dein Schicksal führt Dich her;” we remember some features that designate the same character and its impassioned ebullition, as: the soft transition of the orchestra after the words: “Ihr sollt das Mädchen lieben;” and the subsequent words: “Gerichtet hat ihn Gott!—die Mutter weint,—die Tochter büsst,—dem Todten sei verziehen;” which are of the deepest and most impressive effect from their musical treatment.—The march of the Saracens in this act is also of most original colouring, and recurs again in the third act, where it is connected with that which has gone before, and is handled in so startling and beautiful a manner in the orchestra, that the public expressed their delight at the return to it there by a general outburst of applause.—If we cite fewer passages in the subsequent acts, it is not that these were poorer, but not to weary the reader’s patience with the enumeration of individual parts; and indeed the power of the music increases with the interest of the subject treated. The recognition scene between Balduin and Emma, Balduin’s threat at its conclusion, and the whole finale of the second act, form striking moments, which always ensure the admiration of the hearer. In the third act, the duet between Balduin and Bruno is a fine master-piece of music, and the conclusion, the despair of Balduin, replete with energetic force, and instrumented in a truly powerful manner. The battle chorus of the Turks, from its prominent difference of colouring, excited the enthusiasm of the auditory, who followed the conformity of the opera well sustained throughout from that part to the end, with the most lively interest.... We must also acknowledge the zeal of all the performers.... But no less are thanks and honour due to the public! They have this time shewn themselves fully sensible of their office of judge and reward-giver, and gave that unremitting attention to the work throughout which is most expressive of the admiration and interest it awakened. Scarcely any fine passage passed unnoticed by more or less warm demonstrations.... The day thus terminated in a triumph for long years of meritorious services, and in a day of honour for this particular work, which bears witness to the wealth in artistic riches possessed by the composer, and in what sure keeping and governance they are in the hands of our highly esteemed master;” &c.—Passing over other similar notices, a criticism (signed H. T.) may be adverted to here, for its strikingly harsh contrast with the former; overflowing with dissatisfaction and every kind of reproach of this opera, and which although not among the other papers now before us, is still remembered by the family as one that greatly surprised them by its contents. In cases of this kind Spohr always laughed at the angry zeal of his friends, affirming that every one had a right to express his personal opinion freely, but at the same time with the remark: “When a piece of music is really good, no reviling critic can take from it an atom of its merit!”—

Though the brilliant success of this opera, which Spohr had written under circumstances of particular predilection, constituted the most important moment of his eight days’ visit to Berlin, he passed the previous and subsequent days in the most agreeable manner in the amiable family circle of Professor Wichmann. But not alone in the hospitable reception accorded him and his wife, which afforded them all the delights of a charming domesticity, did Spohr experience the highest gratification; for from other quarters also marks of attention were shown him yet more demonstrative of the honour in which his genius was held.

Especially gratifying as were to him the attentions of his colleagues in art, Meyerbeer, Taubert, Hub. Riess, and others, he was not insensible to the tribute of acknowledgment paid to him by the King; and the honour of an invitation to the royal table was yet more enhanced in worth to him, from its being communicated to him at the King’s request in a personal visit from the celebrated Alexander v. Humboldt. Of this royal dinner party, at which, besides Humboldt, Tiek, v. Savigny, and other personages of note were present, who emulated with each other in pleasing and intellectual conversation with the King and Queen, Spohr always spoke with much pleasure in later years. More especially, however, he would recur to the following amusing incident:

Between the King and Spohr, who was seated opposite to him, rose an ornamental centre-piece of considerable height, in the shape of a costly flower-vase, which whenever the King was desirous of addressing his conversation to Spohr, greatly interfered and prevented him from seeing his face. Upon each occasion, the King was obliged to stoop in order to look round the inconveniently intervening object, until growing impatient, after having made several signs to the servants to remove it, which they appeared not to have understood, the King seized it with his own hand, and removing the obtrusive ornament procured for himself an unimpeded view across the table to Spohr.—On the last evening, while the Wichmann family and their guests were seated in the illuminated garden saloon in friendly chat, they were greatly surprised by the sudden entry from the obscurity of the garden of several dark figures, which were followed by a constantly increasing number, until the whole of the members of the royal orchestra, with Meyerbeer and Taubert at their head, assembled, upon which the senior member presented Spohr with a beautifully executed golden laurel-wreath, while Meyerbeer, in a speech of much feeling, thanked him “for all the grand and beautiful things which in his enthusiastic love of true German art he had hitherto created, and especially for this his excellent work, “The Crusaders,” &c. This discourse upon the evening of his taking leave, spoken with warmth and sincerity by such a man, could not fail to make a deep impression upon Spohr and every person present, and it was followed by a silence the most profound; until professor Wichmann, who was the first to recover his self-possession, approached Meyerbeer, and to the just praises conveyed in his excellent speech, replied with much humour in the words: “Positively, Demosthenes was a mere stump orator in comparison to you!” at which the cheerful tone of the company was magically restored, and Spohr then returned thanks in a concise yet feeling manner. Besides this handsome present from the royal Berlin orchestra, he took back with him to Cassel another souvenir of his stay there, viz. his own bust executed by professor Wichmann, which on account of its speaking resemblance and artistic excellence has always been greatly admired both by connoisseurs and the general public.