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Kitty of Heilbronn, performed after many delays at Vienna, was not a success, and Iffland, the popular dramatist and director of the Berlin Theatre, rejected this play, while accepting all manner of commonplace works by inferior authors.
"Yes, it is true, much love has been manifested for me, much homage has been rendered to me," said Haydn, musingly. "All nations and all princes have rendered homage to you," exclaimed Iffland.
"Man alone is fragile, but genius is immortal," exclaimed Iffland, "and Joseph Haydn is a genius whose glory will never die." "Let my footman tell you the glory of the nightingale and the parrot," said Haydn, with a faint smile. "The works of man are perishable, but the works of God last forever."
"And you have taught those whose eyes and ears were closed against the holy charms of Nature, how to see and hear," said Iffland. "Your `Seasons' is the most glorious hymn on God's splendid world." "Yes, the 'Seasons," cried Haydn, almost vehemently, "gave me the death-blow. It was so difficult for me to derive enthusiasm from the words of the text.
At one time, that which was sentimental was the foremost in favor, and that poet was called the greatest who best knew how to touch this string; then it passed over to the peppered style of writing, and nothing pleased but histories of knights and robbers. Now people find pleasure in prosaic life, and Schröder and Iffland are the acknowledged idols.
In November and December my plans were disarranged by theatrical preparations for the long-expected Iffland, who did not come till toward the close of the year, and also by preparations for his performances, which gave me great pleasure.
He gives a casual picture of filial piety which I cannot but transcribe; for I trust it is as useful as it is delightful to illustrate the amiable virtues of the sex. "When I was at Berlin," says he, "I followed the celebrated Iffland to the grave. Mingled with some pomp you might trace much real feeling.
"Permit me, then, to recite the lines in which Wieland celebrated your 'Creation," said Iffland; and, advancing a few steps, holding the bouquet in his hand, and fixing his gleaming eyes on Haydn, who gazed at him with a gentle smile, Iffland recited in his full sonorous voice Wieland's beautiful lines: "Wie stroem't dein wogender Gesang In uns're Herzen ein!
"But the works of man come likewise from God, for it was He who gave him the strength to create them," replied Iffland, warmly. "Did not the great and glorious creations of your genius come just as much from God as the flowers which you hold in your hand, and the perfumes of which delight you so visibly?" "Yes, these flowers are beautiful," said Haydn, musingly.
On the 26th of May, 1809, he played the hymn three times in succession. From the piano he had to be carried to his bed, which he never left again. When Iffland paid him a visit in 1807, Haydn played the hymn for him.
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