begging
she said she would. And what did she choose? 'Schoener und schoener
schmuckt sich;' sang it quite charmingly, in strict time and tune, and
with very good execution. Then I was obliged to confess that Fanny had
written that song (which I found very hard, but pride must have a
fall), and to beg her to sing one of my own also."

As her father had kept her from appearing before the public when she
was young, so her brother strenuously opposed her wish to publish her
work in her maturity. In the spring of 1837, Fanny, in defiance of
him, did issue one song with her own name to it. It had a great
success, and Felix himself graciously wrote to her after it had been
performed at a concert; "I thank you, in the name of the public, for
publishing it against my wish." Fanny's husband urged her to follow up
this success by issuing more of her works. "Her mother was of the same
opinion, and begged Felix to persuade Fanny to publish. The success
had not altered Felix's views, however, and he declined to persuade his
sister; and Fanny, who had herself no desire to appear in print,
readily gave up the idea."

Felix's influence sufficed to debar Fanny from all further attempt to
obtain recognition, after that one song, until the year 1846, when she
was forty-one years old. Then the persuasions of another musical
friend led her to publish a small selection of her best work. "Felix
had not altered his views, and it went against his wishes when he heard
that she had made up her mind to publish. Some time passed before he
wrote on the subject at all, but on August 14th the following entry
appears in her diary: 'At last Felix has written, and given me his
professional blessing in the kindest manner. I know that he is not
satisfied in his heart of hearts, but I am glad he has said a kind word
to me about it.'"

This little volume, too, was warmly received. Encouraged by the
success of her published work,--delayed till so sadly late in
life,--tasting the stimulating elixir of appreciation, and knowing the
fascinating encouragement of public applause, she now began composition
on a larger scale than anything she had before attempted. "I am
working a good deal," she wrote, "and feel that I get on,--a
consciousness which, added to the glorious weather, gives me a feeling
of content and happiness such as I have, perhaps, never before
experienced."

Alas! it came too late. In the spring of the next year, Fanny
Mendelsso