DÜsseldorf, April 3rd, 1835.

Dear Father,

I am delighted to hear that you are satisfied with the programme of the Cologne Musical Festival. I shall not be able to play the organ for “Solomon,” as it must stand in the background of the orchestra and accompany almost every piece, the choruses and other performers here being accustomed to constant beating of time. I must therefore transcribe the whole of the organ part in the manner in which I think it ought to be played, and the cathedral organist there, Weber, will play it; I am told he is a sound musician and first-rate player. This is all so far well, and only gives me the great labour of transcribing, as I wish to have the performance as perfect as possible. I have had a good deal of trouble too with the “Morgengesang,”[20] as there is much in it that requires alteration, owing to the impossibility of executing it as written, with the means we have here. In doing so, however, it again caused me extreme pleasure, especially the stars, the moon, the elements, and the whole of the admirable finale. At the words “und schlich in dieser Nacht,” etc., it becomes so romantic and poetical, that each time I hear it I feel more touched and charmed; it therefore gratifies me to be of any use to so noble a man. The ComitÉ were very much surprised when I maintained that it was a fine composition, and scarcely would consent to have it, but at that moment they were in a mood to be persuaded to anything. I would also have insisted on their giving an overture of Bach’s, if I had not dreaded too strong a counter-revolution. There is to be nothing of mine; therefore (from gratitude, I presume) they persist that my “admirable likeness” shall appear and be published by Whitsunday, a project from which I gallantly defend myself, refusing either to sit or stand for the purpose, having a particular objection to such pretensions.

You must be well aware that your presence at the festival would not only be no gÊne to me, but on the contrary, would cause me first to feel true joy and delight in my success. Allow me to take this opportunity to say to you, that the approbation and enjoyment of the public, to which I am certainly very sensible, only causes me real satisfaction when I can write to tell you of it, because I know it rejoices you, and one word of praise from you is more truly precious to me, and makes me happier, than all the publics in the world applauding me in concert; and thus to see you among the audience, would be the dearest of all rewards to me for my labours.

My oratorio[21] is to be performed in Frankfort in November, so Schelble writes to me; and much as I should like you to hear it soon, still I should prefer your hearing it first next year, at the Musical Festival. Before decidedly accepting the proposal, I have stipulated to wait till after the performance at Frankfort, that I may judge whether it be suitable for the festival; but should this prove to be the case, as I hope and wish it may, it will have a much finer effect there, and besides it is the festival that you like, and Whitsunday instead of November; and above all, I shall then know whether it pleases you or not, on which point I feel by no means sure.

I cannot close this letter without speaking of the heavenly weather that delights us here. Light balmy air and sunshine, and a profusion of green, and larks! To-day I rode through the forest, and stopped for at least a quarter of an hour to listen to the birds, who in the deep solitude were fluttering about incessantly and warbling.—Your

Felix.