that winter he
wrote the "Reformation Symphony," intended to be produced at the
tercentenary festival of the "Augsburg Confession" in the following
June. This symphony, with which Mendelssohn was not entirely
satisfied, was only once performed during his lifetime, but since his
death it has frequently been performed, and though not one of his most
perfect works, is recognized as a noble monument in honor of a great
event. The next spring he again set out on his travels, this time
southward to Italy.

In 1833 Mendelssohn accepted an official post offered him by the
authorities of Duesseldorf, by which the entire musical arrangements of
the town, church, theatre, and singing societies were put under his
care. Immermann, the celebrated poet, being associated with him in the
direction of the theatre. Things, however, did not go on very smoothly
there. Mendelssohn found all the many worries of theatrical
management--the engagement of singers and musicians, the dissensions
to be arranged, the many tastes to be conciliated--too irksome, and he
did not long retain this appointment; but the life among his friends
at Duesseldorf was most delightful, and the letters written at this
time are exceedingly lively and gay. It was here that he received the
commission from the Caecilia-Verein of Frankfort for, and commenced,
his grand oratorio "St. Paul." The words for this, as also for the
"Elijah" and "Hymn of Praise" afterward, he selected himself with the
help of his friend Schubung, and they are entirely from the Bible--as
he said, "The Bible is always the best of all." Circumstances
prevented the oratorio being then produced at Frankfort, and the first
public performance took place at the Lower Rhine Festival at
Duesseldorf, in May, 1836.

But his visits to Frankfort had a very important result in another
way. Mendelssohn there met Mademoiselle Cecile Jeanrenaud, the
daughter of a pastor of the French Reformed Church, and, though he had
frequently indulged in the admiration of beautiful and clever
women--which is allowable, and indeed an absolute necessity for a
poet!--now for the first time he fell furiously in plain unmistakable
and downright love. But it is more characteristic of the staid Teuton
than the impulsive musician, that before plighting his troth to her he
went away for a month's bathing at Scheveningen, in Holland, for the
purpose of testing the strength of his affection by this absence. On
his return, finding his