Do write me something about the performance of The Natural Daughter, frankly and without consideration for my feelings.  I have a mind anyhow to shorten some of the scenes, which must seem long, even if they are excellently acted.  Will you outline for me sometime the duties of a concert conductor, so much, at all events, as one of our kind needs to know in order to form a judgment of such a man, and in case of need, to be able to direct him?  Madame Mara sang on Tuesday in Lauchstaedt; how it went off I do not yet know.  For the songs which I received through Herr von Wolzogen I thank you mostly heartily in my own name and in the name of our friends.  It was no time to think of producing them.  I hope soon to send you the proof-sheets of my songs, and I beg you to keep them secret at first, until they have appeared in print.

Inclosure

You now have the Bride of Messina before you in print and as you learn the poet’s intentions from his introductory essay, you will know better how to appreciate what he has done, and how far you can agree with him.  I will, regarding your letter, jot down my thoughts on the subject; we can come to an understanding in a few words.

[Illustration:  K. F. ZELTER, E. A. Seemann]

In Greek tragedy four forms of the chorus are found, representing four epochs.  In the first, between the songs in which gods and heroes are extolled and genealogies, great deeds, and monstrous destinies are brought before the imagination, a few persons appear and carry the spectator back into the past.  Of this we find an approximate example in the Seven before Thebes of, Eschylus.  Here, therefore, are the beginnings of dramatic art, the old style.  The second epoch shows us the chorus in the mass as the mystical, principal personage of the piece, as in the Eumenides and Supplicants.  Here I am inclined to find the grand style.  The chorus is independent, the interest centres in it; one might call this the Republican period of dramatic art; the rulers and the gods are only attendant personages.  In the third epoch it is the chorus which plays the secondary part; the interest is transferred to the families, and the members and heads who represent them in the play, with whose fate that of the surrounding people is only loosely connected.  Then, the chorus is subordinate, and the figures of the princes and heroes stand preeminent in all their exclusive magnificence.  This I consider the beautiful style.  The pieces of Sophocles stand on this plane.  Since the crowd is forced merely to look on at the heroes and at fate, and can have no effect on either their special or general nature, it takes refuge in reflection and assumes the office of an able and welcome spectator.  In the fourth epoch the action withdraws more and more into the sphere of private interests, and the chorus often appears as a burdensome custom, as an inherited fixture.  It becomes unnecessary, and therefore, as a part of a living poetic composition, it is useless, wearisome, and disturbing; as, for example, when it is called upon to guard secrets in which it has no interest, and things of that sort.  Several examples are to be found in the pieces of Euripides, of which I will mention Helen and Iphigenia in Tauris.