possessed
knowledge and powers that entitled him to take rank with performers
and composers of the day. Too soon for some of those who loved him had
Mendelssohn passed from his childhood stage, landing almost at a
single bound into that of advanced youth, if not, indeed, into manhood
itself. The Swiss tour had in a measure bridged over the interval; for
when he returned it was with a taller and robuster frame, more
strongly marked features, and a new and indefinable expression that
was the result of widened experience, and, last of all, without the
beautiful curls which had helped to make the child's face what it had
been. With these changes, however, his happy boyish nature remained as
strong and as irrepressible as ever. And so we pass on to the date
when the transformation of which we have spoken found a fitting
opportunity for recognition by his friends.

It was the night of February 3, 1824, Felix's fifteenth birthday, and
the family and guests were gathered around the supper-table. Earlier
in the evening there had been a full rehearsal of his first full-grown
opera in three acts--'Die beiden Neffen, oder der Onkel aus Boston'
(The Two Nephews, or the Uncle from Boston), which had gone most
successfully, and now Zelter held up his hand as a signal that he had
something important to say. All eyes were turned to him, and the
clatter of tongues ceased in a moment. The old musician's face was
lighted up by a most unusual expression. His grumpiness had cleared
away, and a look of benevolence beamed from his eyes, in which there
was even a suspicion of moisture, as, lifting his glass on high, he
said:

'I have a toast to propose which I make no doubt you will acquiesce
in most readily. I raise my glass to the health and happiness of my
_late_ pupil (no one failed to note the emphasis on the word 'late'),
'Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy!'

The toast was honoured with enthusiasm, and then Zelter, rising from
his seat, took Felix by the hand and addressed him in these words:

'From this day, dear boy, thou art no longer an apprentice, but an
independent member of the brotherhood of musicians. I proclaim you
"assistant" in the names of Mozart, Haydn, and old Father Bach!'

He then embraced Felix with much tenderness, imprinting a hearty kiss
on both his cheeks; and, the little ceremony ended, the company
toasted the proclamation of independence with great merriment,
following it up with the singing of songs by Zelter and