Chapter X: Part 10

Be heartily welcomed on the Lake of Lucerne, my dear, great friend. "Tristan" will once again enjoy and derive strength from Alpine air before he leaves you for ever to shine on others. At Carlsruhe they are afraid that he will not arrive punctually at the appointed time. Devrient, whom I saw here and at Jena, told me so lately. The first performance is wavering between September and December--the birthday of the Grand Duke or that of the Grand Duchess, and I have already announced myself as the INEVITABLE guest.

Your dose of gravy, as you put it, was not particularly palatable. At our next meeting I shall have to say much about it, unfortunately of the negative kind. Nevertheless, I hope to be able at the same time to propose to you a different arrangement (if that is the name) with which, no doubt, you will agree. First of all, however, "Tristan" must be finished, engraved, and performed, and after that we will, without delay, take the "Nibelungen" affair seriously in hand, and set it right to your satisfaction.

The Princess and her daughter are going to Munich next week (Kaulbach is painting the portrait of Princess M.). I stay here till Easter, and then go on a visit to Prince Hohenzollern at Lowenberg, Silesia. From the middle of May to the beginning of June I shall pitch my tent at Leipzig, where all manner of things will happen. Later on, for Whitsuntide, grand Schiller festivities are announced here. Whether they will take place is very questionable, but in any case I shall have to get the music for the festival-play by Holm (VOR HUNDERT JAHRERI) ready, which will be something of an effort.

My health, fortunately, gives me no trouble, and I have no lack of patience. The rest may come and will come.

Farewell and persevere. Such is the wish of

Your

F. L.

WEYMAR, April 6th, 1859.

288.

LUCERNE, April 19th, 1859.

Tell me, dearest Franz, how would you feel if you were in my position? I have repeatedly asked you to send me your new works as they appear. The "Ideals" has appeared, but you are silent on the subject. Now I read the publisher's announcement of the appearance of "Dante." How would you feel if this happened to you? Do you still harbour your strange illusions about me? That surely is impossible.

The weather is bad; I am absolutely alone, and seldom in the right mood for work. So I drag on amidst mists and thoughts.

Let me hear, let me see.

Your

R. W.

289.

DEDICATION OF THE "DANTE" SYMPHONY.

As Virgil guided Dante, so have you guided me through the mysterious regions of life-tone imbued worlds. From the bottom of his heart calls to you:--

"Tu se lo mio maestro, el mio autore!"

and dedicates this work to you with invariably faithful love

Your

F. LISZT.

WEYMAR, Easter 1859.

290.

LUCERNE, May 8th, 1859.

I should prefer not to write to you today, dearest Franz, because I am not in the proper mood for it, but as I must not think of working, I make at least this attempt at some sort of activity, without knowing exactly what the result will be. If you suddenly were to enter my solitude,--that would be a chance of the possibility of a possibility. But you seem to have disposed of your summer,--Lowenberg and Leipzig, while the third L. (Lucerne) has been totally forgotten. Well, I stick to Lucerne, and, carefully considered, it is the only place in the world which is at present possible to me. You know, or might imagine, that I do not live a life in the proper sense of the word; the only thing that could help me--art, art to the verge of drowning and world- forgetfulness, of that I have still less than of life, and this state of things has lasted for a period which I soon shall count by decades. Excepting the servants, I see and speak to no one; just imagine how I must feel. My good people, I fear you leave me too much alone, and the meaning of "too late" will one day be brought home to you in connection with me. It is very well to say: "Get "Tristan" ready, and then we shall see." But how if I did not get "Tristan" ready because I could not get it ready? I feel as if I should break down pantingly in sight of the goal. Once at least every day I look at my book with a right good will, but my head is waste, my heart empty, and I stare at the mists and the rain-clouds, which, ever since I have been here, have debarred me even from the chance of shaking up my stagnant blood by pleasant excursions. People say: "Go to work, then all will be right." Very well in its way, but I, poor devil, lack routine, and if ideas do not come to me of themselves, I cannot make them A pleasant state of things this! and what is worse, there is no chance of helping myself in any other way. All is shut and locked against me. Work alone is to help me, but who is to help me to the possibility of work? I have evidently too little of what you have too much.

I am full of enthusiasm for the German Confederacy of the Teutonic nations. For heaven's sake do not let the villain L. Napoleon touch my dear German Confederacy! I should be too deeply grieved if any change were made. I am curious, however, what will become of my intended migration to Paris. It is surely most unpatriotic to look for a comfortable existence at the head- quarters of the enemy of the Teutonic nation. The good Teutons should really do something to save the most Teutonic of all Teutonic opera-composers this terrible trial. Moreover, in Paris I shall be pretty well cut off from all my German resources, and yet I shall be obliged to apply in a very high quarter in order to get permission for permanent settlement in Paris, for my Swiss settlement is coming to a close. Germany is evidently intent upon driving me forcibly to the enemy. Very well! There is a possibility of my going in the autumn for six months to America, where offers have been made to me which, considering the friendly sympathy of the German Confederacy, I cannot very well neglect. This will be decided before long. What makes me hesitate is that the "Tristan" scheme at Carlsruhe would be crossed thereby in such a manner that I should have to give it up for the present, and should probably not resume it at any future time. The last act of this child of sorrow is now on the verge of the "to be or not to be;" a slight pressure of some spring of the vulgar fate, at whose mercy I am, might kill this child at the very moment of its birth. Everything with me depends now upon the turning of a hand; there may be a way and there may be a complete stoppage, for I, my Franz, am in a bad way.

I have heard nothing for a long time of any of my friends; they probably think that I am very happy in my dear Switzerland, in this splendid solitude, in the joy of composing, forgetful of all the world. I am not angry with them because they make themselves such illusions. If they only knew that I had to threaten violence in order to get out of you the "Dante" symphony dedicated to me, they might draw further conclusions from this fact. What do you say to that? I have, after all, arrived at "Dante", of which I did not wish to speak today, because I love it too much to involve it in my present mood. Let me tell you, however, that we had better keep the dedication, written in my copy, to ourselves. I at least shall not mention it to a soul. Your words have positively made me blush, you may believe me. I cannot tell you too often how miserably weak I feel as a musician. I know, in the depth of my heart, that I am an absolute blunderer. You ought to watch me when I am at it; now thinking "it must do after all," then going to the piano to puzzle out some wretched rubbish, and giving it up again in a state of idiocy. Oh, how I feel then! how thoroughly persuaded of my musical wretchedness! And then come you, whose pores are running over as with streams, fountains, cataracts, and tell me such words as those which you have said to me. I find it difficult to think that this is not the purest irony, and I must recall your friendship in order to believe that you have not been cutting a joke at my expense after all. This is a peculiar story, dearest friend; believe me, I am not up to much. I really begin to think that Reissiger must have helped me with "Tannhauser" and "Lohengrin." With my new works you have most certainly helped me, and now that you leave me in the lurch, I can do nothing more.

About "Dante" only so much today that I was specially pleased to see how perfectly well I remembered it from your playing it to me. As I come to study it more closely I perceive that no feature of any importance had escaped me, even the smallest and finest details were perfectly familiar to me from that time. This at least is good evidence of my receptive faculties; but I believe that the credit is really due to the peculiar grandeur and quality of your work.

Generally speaking, if you wish to know, I am again in exactly the same condition as when I wrote the letter about you to M. Concerning that letter I recently had a brand-new experience. K. R. had not read it, when I found it accidentally amongst my papers at Venice, and gave it to him. After that he came to me, and told me that people who were near to you had told him in connection with this letter that I expressed myself in it in an evasive manner, and was evidently intent upon saying nothing definite about you. He himself had been made anxious by this, and now, having read it, was truly delighted at perceiving the ENORMOUS significance I had attributed to you. Astonished at the possibility of an ill-natured misunderstanding, I read the letter once more, and was compelled to chime in with K. R.'s impetuous declamations at the incredible dulness, superficiality, and triviality of people who could have misunderstood the meaning of this letter. I have taken a solemn oath not to publish ANOTHER WORD. What we are to each other we know and tell one another at intervals for the sake of encouragement and comfort. But what we are to the world I will be d--d if I--!

It is TOO incredible.

Good Lord! I cannot get out of my trivial mood in this letter, and therefore must not discuss anything noble, least of all the "Ideals." If you want to be sure of hearing something rational from me, come to me and play all your things to me, especially the Crusaders' chorus (splendid!!); then at least YOU will know once more accurately what is in me.

For the present I spend all the good humour I can dispose of on my wife. I flatter her and take care of her as if she were a bride in her honeymoon. My reward is that I see her thrive; her bad illness is visibly getting better. She is recovering, and will, I hope, become a little rational in her old age. Just after I had received your "Dante", I wrote to her that we had now got out of Hell; I hope Purgatory will agree with her, in which case we may perhaps, after all, enjoy a little Paradise. The whole thing is splendid. Remember me to the Prince of Lowenberg, or whatever his name may be, and tell him that if the German Confederacy does not recall me soon I shall go to Paris and betray the length and breadth of Germany.

God be with you. I hope you will pardon this absurd letter. Ever thine,

R. W.

291.

What a terrible storm is your letter, dearest Richard! How desperately it lashes and knocks down everything. What can be heard in the midst of this roaring thunder? Where shall I find, and what is the good of, words, words, words?

And yet my confidence in you is unshaken. Hamlet's dilemma does not apply to you, for YOU ARE and cannot help being. Even your mad injustice towards yourself in calling yourself a "miserable musician and blunderer" (!!) is a sign of your greatness. In the same sense Pascal says, "La vraie eloquence se moque de l' eloquence." It is true that your greatness brings you little comfort and happiness, but where is happiness, in the narrow monotonous sense which is absurdly given to the word? Resignation and patience alone sustain us in this world. Let us bear our cross together in Christ--"the God whom one approaches without pride, before whom one bends the knee without despair." But I must not be betrayed into needless Franciscan sermons.

Candidly speaking, I do not think much of your American project, and fear that New York would appear even more uncanny to you than London. Nevertheless, write to me some particulars about the offer which has been made to you, without the slightest fear of alarming the German Confederacy. As I frequently said, Carlsruhe is, for the present, your best chance, and I am persuaded that the Grand Duke of Baden, who is very well inclined towards you, will not fail to give you practical proof of his kindness. Devrient does not expect to give "Tristan" before December, on the birthday of the Grand Duchess. You need, therefore, be in no particular hurry to finish the work. In any case, I shall visit you before that at Lucerne, or wherever you like, and will play to you a lot of my stuff if, as you tell me, it amuses you. The noblest reward of my work would be if it were to bring home to you the truth that you are and remain an IMMENSE MUSICIAN, and if by that means you were incited to renewed industry.

In spite of all the war troubles the meeting of musicians will take place at the beginning of June, as announced, and I have to take up my quarters at Leipzig for that purpose as early as next week. Do not laugh at me too much because I continue to take an interest in similar things; they are not without influence on your tentiemes, and from that point of view I may ask for your toleration. I hope the weather will soon be finer on the lake, and a milder spirit will illumine your soul.

Cordially your

F. LISZT.

WEYMAR, May 14th, 1859.

I told you at the time how deeply your letter to M. about the Symphonic Poems had rejoiced me. The twaddle which dulness, triviality, and spite have talked about it is not worth notice.

292.

LUCERNE, May 15th, 1859.

DEAREST FRANZ,

Thiele, of Berne, the, trombone player, has just called on me, and told me that he recently visited you at Weimar, not knowing at that time that the place of trombone player would be vacant there. He asked me to recommend him to you, because, as a native of Weimar, he would like much to be employed there. I am cordially pleased to recommend him to you most warmly, not only for the sake of Thiele, but for that of your orchestra. He took part in 1853 in my famous May concerts at Zurich, and on that occasion gained, I may say, my whole heart by his enthusiasm. He had two very weak players with him, but managed to carry them along with him by his energy to such an extent, that in the passage

[Musical score excerpt]

one might have thought that one was listening to a whole host of trombones. Thiele, in short, is excellent, and known all through Switzerland as a trombone genius. I congratulate you on his acquisition. Do not let him escape you.

Farewell for today, dearest friend. What state I am in you may unfortunately see from the fact that a few days ago I felt bound in conscience and duty to ask Devrient not to rely on "Tristan" or me any longer. This was bound to happen, and there is an end for the present.

Much luck to the Leipzig festival.

Farewell, and accept the best wishes of

Your

RICHARD W.

293.

May 21st, 1859.

DEAREST FRIEND,

Send Tausig to me; I hear he is disengaged. My wife has even written to me that he wished to come to me. Otherwise I have nothing rational to tell you today. I feel miserable; you will soon hear more. A thousand cordial thanks for your letter.

Your

R. W.

LUCERNE.

294.

DEAREST RICHARD,

My excellent friend, Felix Draseke, is on his way to you. Receive him kindly as one of "ours," and reveal to him your "Nibelungen" treasure, on which he is worthy of gazing with heart and soul.

I hope to be with you at the end of August; let me know where I shall find you then.

Your

F. L.

WEYMAR, July 19th, 1859.

295.

Telegram.

WEYMAR, August 9th.

TO RICHARD WAGNER,

LUCERNE,

HOTEL SCHWEIZERHOF.

On the completion of "Tristan" the most cordial congratulations of your invariably faithful

FRANCISCUS.

296.

LUCERNE, August 19th, 1859.

DEAREST FRANZ,

I should like to thank Princess M. for the news contained in her last letter, and to congratulate her cordially on her impending marriage, but I am ill, and a feverish cold has suppressed all rational thoughts in me. But as I wanted to give you some news of me without delay, I ask you, for the present, to be the very eloquent interpreter of my sincere feelings to our amiable Child. The effort thus made, in spite of my indisposition, enables me to add that, although the disappointed hope of your visit, which would have been most welcome just now, fills me with grief, I fully understand that the sacrifice in my favour would have been too great. On the other hand, I lay the sacrifice made by me at the feet of the happy Child with joyful pride.

As to my fate I can tell you nothing, not knowing myself whither I shall direct my steps. I should like to live in Paris in absolute retirement, but the French Minister refuses to give me his vise for my passport. In answer to my remonstrances, he wrote to Paris a fortnight ago, but has had no answer. I am probably taken for an obstinate conspirator, an opinion which the treatment I receive at the hands of Germany seems to countenance. I wait for my fate in my little room here, neither longing for Paris nor attracted by any other place that is open to me. Draseke is still with me, and I enjoy his visit. Soon he will go too.

Excuse me from writing any more. Even the effort of these few lines has put me in a perspiration.

Continue to love me, and greet Altenburg a thousand times from

Your

R. W.

"Tristan" has received your welcome with pride and joy.

297.

DEAREST FRIEND,

Your letter, received today, has increased my grief at not being able to be with you. Although I am not much worth as a sick nurse, I should nurse you well, and assist you in passing the time with more ease. Alas! we are miserable creatures, and the few who have penetrated the deepest secrets of life are the most miserable of all. That snarling old cur, Schopenhauer, is quite right in saying that we are ridiculous in addressing each other as MONSIEUR or citizen. Compagnon de misere et de souffrance, or fellow-sufferers, and worse we are, TUTTI QUANTI, and nothing we can do can make any essential change in this. The worst is that we know it quite well, and yet never like to believe it.

What is this about the vise of your passport? Probably the impediment has been removed by this time; otherwise make inquiries as to the quarter from which it arises, whether from the Saxon embassy in Paris, or from the French police. Steps must be taken accordingly. It is understood that I am quite at your service in this matter, but I should not like to make a faux pas, and it is necessary, therefore, that I should be more accurately informed by you, in order to apply at once to the right people.

In my opinion Paris is the most comfortable, most appropriate and cheapest place for you while things in Germany remain in their wretched state. Although you may not agree with the artistic doings there, you will find many diverting and stimulating things, which will do you more good than your walks in Switzerland, beautiful though the Alpine landscape may be. I am surprised, it is true, at your speaking of a permanent settlement in Paris at this moment. I thought that your relations to Carlsruhe had reached such a point as to secure to you an asylum in the Grand Duchy of Baden (perhaps at Heidelberg, unless the PROFESSORS should frighten you there). How about the first performance of "Tristan" at Carlsruhe? Devrient informed me, with tolerable certainty, that the intention was to give the work on the birthday of the Grand Duchess in December, and that you would be invited to conduct it. I hope no change has taken place in this. Let me have particulars. Perhaps I shall be able to assist you in simplifying the matter.

Do you know what I did a few days ago? Looking at your portrait, which you had signed "Santo Spirito Cavaliere", it occurred to me to write a "Rienzi fantasia" for pianoforte. If it should amuse you for a moment my time will have been well employed. I should tell you that your little bust adorns my writing desk. You are of course without the company of any other celebrities--no Mozart, no Beethoven, no Goethe, or whatever their names may be. To this room, which is the heart of the house, none of them is admitted. What a beautiful day it will be when I see you here.

M. will leave us soon, probably in October; until then I cannot get away from here. If you should happen to remain in Switzerland till after that, I shall visit you in the late autumn. Otherwise I shall see you at Carlsruhe or Paris.

Remember me cordially to Draseke. I am very glad you have taken a liking to him. He is a splendid fellow. In our small circle of most intimate friends he is called the "hero." Has he shown you his ballad, "Konig Helge?" It is a glorious thing.

Be good enough to tell him that _I_ INVITE HIM SPECIALLY to stay with me on his return journey, and that I should think it very shabby of him if he played me the trick of flying past me under my very nose.

Try to get well again as soon as possible, dearest friend, and continue to love

Your

FRANZ.

WEYMAR, August 22nd, 1859.

298.

PARIS, October 20th, 1859.

I hope, dear Franz, these lines will reach you exactly on the 22nd.

Accept my cordial wishes for your birthday. It is of great significance to me that just at present, while I am seriously and deeply considering our mutual relations, I should come upon this day which Nature herself, no doubt, counts amongst her most fortunate days. For what she succeeded in creating on this day has borne such rich fruit that, without this gift of your existence, there would be a chasm in the essence of things, of the depth of which he only can judge who loves you as I love you, and who might suddenly imagine that you existed no longer. Gazing down this terrible chasm, such as my imagination pictured it, I turned my eyes to you as one awaking from a terrible dream, and was so sincerely delighted, so deeply moved by your real existence, that you appeared to me as one newborn. In this spirit I greet you on this, to me, highly important birthday. Your friendship is an absolute necessity to me; I cling to it with my last vital strength.

When shall I see you at last?

Have you an idea of the position in which I am, of the miracles of faith and love which I require in order to gain new courage and patience? Think this out for yourself, without my telling you. You MUST know me sufficiently to understand this, although we have not lived much together.

I ask you, once more, when shall we meet again? Carlsruhe is more than uncertain. "Tristan", altogether, has become a shadowy and half impossible thing. Do not wait for an external occasion which may bring me to you. In the most favourable case the "Tristan" period, with its desperate and terrible exertions, would not be fit for our meeting again for the first time. Be guided to me by your innermost heart, and may it impel you to come to me soon. By the middle of November I expect my wife. Could I not have you BEFORE? It is bad enough for me that I have to call you, and that you do not come of your own accord. I heard of the marriage of Princess M. through B. yesterday; he does not inform me where she is going to live. Kindly tell me where I am to write in order to convey my wishes to her.

Farewell; I am just on the point of moving into my new lodgings. So I am "settled" once more, without faith, love, or hope.

Farewell, and accept my wishes kindly; in congratulating you I congratulate myself.

Your

R.W.

16, RUE NEWTON, CHAMPS ELYSEES. 299.

PARIS, November 23rd, 1859,

16, RUE NEWTON.

Believe me, dear Franz, I find it very difficult to give you news of myself. We live too little together, and must necessarily become strangers in one important aspect of friendship. You wrote to me to Venice and Lucerne that you liked my migration to Paris for the reason that you would be able to visit me more frequently. I have often assured you that I desired an amnesty particularly because I should be able to pay you more frequent and longer visits, and I informed you again that your promise induced me to look upon my Paris settlement in a more favourable light. In spite of this, my first request for your visit addressed to you from here has met with a refusal. You say you cannot come to Paris, and propose a two days' meeting at Strassburg instead. What will be the use of these Strassburg days to us; what to me? I have nothing to tell you in a hurry, no plans that we need discuss. I want to enjoy you, to live with you for some time, as we have hitherto seen so little of each other. Why do you all of a sudden object to Paris, where, if you do not wish it, no one need know of your presence? I can get you rooms near me in a very remote quarter. We shall spend the days at my lodging, where you can see whom you like. Why need you always be a public man apart from the private friend? I cannot understand this. My poor deserted life has made me incapable of comprehending an existence which casts a side glance at the whole world at every step. You must pardon me for declining the Strassburg meeting, greatly as I appreciate the sacrifice which you offer me. It is just this sacrifice which appears to me too great at the price of a few hurried days in a Strassburg hotel.

I am extremely sorry that the Princess was unable to find me; her very valuable letter I fail to understand. By the spontaneous joy and cordiality with which I should have received her, she would have recognized what she is to me. She has often experienced this, and surely does not suspect me of affectation. I do not know what to say to all this, and remain silent.

My silence extends to everything else that otherwise I might have told you about myself. If one has to tell such things at all, it is better to be silent about them. As to the Carlsruhe plan you are probably sufficiently enlightened. Devrient has thought it desirable to make an excuse for the bungling and neglectful way in which he has taken up the idea of a first performance of "Tristan" at his theatre, by saying that it is impossible to execute the work. To that ALSO I do not reply. Why should I speak? _I_ know my fate and my position, and remain silent. It is more serious to think of the consequences which the wiping out of my new work from the list of living things will have for my means of subsistence. However, why should I point out those consequences? He who is endowed with five senses must know what my position is. I can complain no longer, for that would mean to accuse, and I do not even want to accuse friend Devrient. I have not said a word to him. You know enough now, and more than will please you.

My wife has arrived here. She is a little better, and I hope things will go on tolerably well. She told me, without complaining, that you had been at Dresden without paying her a visit. I tried to comfort her as well as I could.

Farewell, my dear Franz. Do not misunderstand me; I wanted to write to you, and for a long time did not know how to set about it. Heaven only knows whether I have done it in the proper way. Be always assured that you are dear to me above all else, even if I fail to comprehend many things which determine your action.

Farewell. Greet the Princess, and tell her that her letter pleased me, although I failed to understand it. Greet also Princess H--. May you all think ot me in a friendly spirit.

Farewell.

Your

R. W.

300.

BRUSSELS, March 29th, 1860.

DEAREST FRANZ,

Once more I give you a sign of life. That one lives at all is perhaps the most wonderful case in point, and when one arrives at the end of things, one need not care any longer. Death, which at this moment mows down men so recklessly, leaves us standing in a bare field by a mere whim. One is astonished and a little thoughtful for awhile.

My fate is very odd. While the real thing for which alone I care remains enveloped in the most German mist of impossibility. H.'s diplomatic skill has arranged for me all manner of Paris glories, which float before me mockingly like a "Fata Morgana." Heaven only knows what will come of this "Tannhauser" scheme. In my heart I do not yet believe in it, and for good reasons. It is of more importance to me to perform "Tristan" in Germany, and I am determined to set that old Dresden matter right if any decent concessions are made to me. If I succeed in this, I shall look to Vienna as the theatre which has the best singers, and presents the unique phenomenon of being conducted by a competent musician, with whom one can come to an understanding. This, as you know, cannot be found in the rest of Germany.

Of you, dearest friend, I have heard nothing for a long time, for even H. was unable to tell me anything. The comfort of your visits in Paris, which at one time you promised me so confidently, will not, it appears, be vouchsafed to me. Be not offended, therefore, if today I send you a visitor in order to give you some news of myself on the same occasion. I have been brought here by the absurd illusion of being able, by repeating my Paris concerts at Brussels, to recover some of the money which those Paris excesses had cost me. But of course the only results of this excursion were new expenses and a little propaganda. Amongst the most valuable conquests I have made here is first Herr A. Samuel, who is starting for Germany, and would like to be introduced to you. He has been very amiable towards me, both in deed and word. You will like him, too, and in that belief I recommend him to your welcome.

You also introduced some one to me here. Frau Agnes Street-- Klindworth brought me a letter from you which you had given to her five years ago for London. I have to thank you for the most pleasant acquaintance which you procure to me so unexpectedly and after all that time. I was soon at home with her and Papa Klindworth, and owe the most pleasant memories to these two people. The old man amused me greatly by his incredible wealth of diplomatic anecdote.

I return to Paris today in order to have a closer view of my brilliant misery. M. Royer wants a large ballet for the second act of "Tannhauser"; you may imagine how I relish the idea. My only refuge in the face of such demands is Princess Metternich, who is highly esteemed by Fould, etc. I must see whether I can get rid of this ballet, otherwise I shall of course withdraw "Tannhauser."

Well, you have now a good insight into the joy of my existence. Do not delay communicating to me a fragment of your life. The only thing that makes our position towards this misery of world and life tolerable is the growing contempt for world and life; and if one can arrive at that in a good humour, things are all right for a little while. But when one perceives how few things hold water, when one observes the terrible superficiality, the incredible thoughtlessness, the selfish desire for pleasure, which inspire every one, one's own earnestness appears often in a very comic light. This consideration is to me, at least, the only one which sometimes puts me in a tolerable mood.

A thousand cordial greetings to you, my dearest Franz; with Mamma I get on very well. The old lady quite touches me by her love and sympathetic insight. Farewell, and remember lovingly,

Your

R. W.

301.

Depeche Telegraphique.

WEYMAR, le 22 Mai.

Deposee sous le no. 93 a 12 heures 31 minutes s. Expediee a domicile le 22 a 2 heures 15 minutes soir.

RICHARD WAGNER,

RUE NEWTON, 16, CHAMPS ELYSEES,

CHEMIN DE VERSAILLES, PARIS.

Cordial wishes for your birthday from your

FRANZ LISZT.

302.

Your letter, dearest, unique friend, is to me more beautiful than the most beautiful balmy May day. May you rejoice in the joy which it has given to me.

I wish I could telegraph myself to Paris. Where could I be more happy than with you, in the magic circle of "Rhinegold", the "Valkyrie", "Siegfried", "Tristan" and "Isolde"--all of them the objects of my longing? But I must not think of this for the present, although I shall certainly come as soon as I can.

Your photograph has been announced to me by an amiable hand, but has not made its appearance so far. I told you before that your little bust stands on my writing-desk as UNICUM. The photograph will find its place in the same room, which otherwise contains nothing ARTISTIC. Beethoven, Weber, Schubert, and others of that stamp keep company to your portrait (that with the motto, "Du weisst wie das wird") in the ante-room. HERE I want to have you alone together with my St. Francis, whom Steinly has designed for me splendidly. He stands on heaving ocean-waves, his outspread cloak on, firmly, unmovedly. In his left hand he calmly holds burning coals; the right is extended in the act of blessing; his gaze is turned upwards, where the word "charitas" glows, surrounded by an aureole.

The great life-question of the Princess has been finally and favourably settled. All the villainous and subtle intrigues which were spun for a number of years have been dispelled.

After the return of the Princess from Rome (where she arrived last Sunday, and will probably stay till the end of July) all will be arranged. I wish I could soon have the pleasure of seeing you CHEZ NOUS.

Through Fraulein Hundt (whom, together with her friend Ingeborg Stark, you received so amiably) I heard a good many things about your way of life in Paris. "Tannhauser", with ballet, and a contest of translators as well as of minstrels, are immediately before you. It will be a tough piece of work for you, and I advise as many walks and cooling baths as possible. Fips should teach you a little philosophic patience during the rehearsals. Frau Burde-Ney told me lately when she was "starring" here, that she intended to go to Paris for a few days, in order to study Isolde with you. She has the necessary stuff ("Wupptich" they say at Dresden) for it.

A thousand thanks for the score which Hartel has sent me. You know best how all this is sung from my very soul. Let me know when convenient what you consider most desirable in regard to the performance of "Tristan." At Carlsruhe it seems impossible, and Devrient was inclined to bet that "Tristan" could not be performed anywhere else either, unless you consented to considerable alterations. This is by no means my opinion, and as often as Devrient said NO, I replied YES. His stage experience is, no doubt, older than mine, but nevertheless I have perfect confidence in my opinion of such things. You know for what reasons I did not, at the time, beg "Tristan" for Weymar, and you will approve of my passive attitude. If, as I should not like to think, no favourable chances for the speedy performance of this marvellous work turn up, and if, for the present, you will be satisfied with a performance here, I firmly believe that I can arrange it for next season (1861). Let me know your views when you write again. Meanwhile I remain, with all my heart,

Your own

F. LISZT.

WEYMAR, May 31st, 1860.

I shall remain here till the return of the Princess. Whether Berlioz will reply to your letter, couched in the barbarous French of Genius, in OUR sense, appears somewhat doubtful. The more's the pity.

303.

PARIS, June 15th, 1860.

Can you induce Herr D. to send me a prompt reply to my last letter? The question at stake is whether or not I shall be able to do something for the health of my wife this summer in accordance with the doctor's prescription. I MUST know this. At the same time I must declare that I shall not accept less than 1,000 francs.

I do not want to encroach upon you, but what you can do without injuring yourself, do please, as soon as possible.

If they think me worth that sum at Weimar I shall expect the bill of exchange by return of post.

Adieu.

Your

RICH. WAGNER.

16, RUE NEWTON, CHAMPS ELYSEES.

304.

DEAREST FRANZ,

According to a letter just received, D. thinks it necessary to refuse me the thousand francs I had asked for, and offers me thirty louis d'or instead.

This puts me in an awkward position. On the one hand I am, as usual, greatly in want of money, and shall decidedly not be able to send my wife to Loden for a cure, unless I receive the subvention I had hoped for. On the other hand, I must despair of ever prospering if, compelled by necessity, I have to yield on every occasion. I have explained my view of the question of honorarium to D. quite openly and without any brusqueness, and have finally insisted upon my first demand.

I should like to let my wife start as soon as possible. The worst turn which this affair could take at Weimar would be, if my demand were simply refused, and if I had nothing at all to give to my wife.

You now know my position exactly. If your diplomatic genius could find a middle course (in case my demand cannot be carried) you would oblige me greatly. I suppose that you are on sufficiently good terms with D., and hope that, at the worst, you will discover such a middle course. Therefore kindly look after this trumpery matter. I am unfortunately surrounded by nothing but trumpery things.

Let me hear from you soon.

Adieu.

Your

R. W.

305.

Concerning the "Rienzi" honorarium, I could effect nothing beyond what D. had offered to you. Pardon me, dearest friend, for not having written to you at once, but I am very tired this week and as unwell as the normal state of my health will allow me to be. It is not of any consequence, and a few days' rest will set me right again. In the meanwhile I must unfortunately advise you to accept D.'s proposal. The G. D. is not here, and no other course is open until the performance actually takes place. After that I hope to get you a few hundred francs more. D. tells me that "Rienzi" is to take the place of the "Prophet" next season. Five (say 5) new decorations have been ordered, and are in preparation. Meffert will sing the title part, and the other characters will be decently represented, while the chorus will be increased by soldiers. Let it therefore take its course until we can do something better. Patience, says Byron, is the virtue of mules, but he who does not possess it remains a miserable ass.

I shall write to you in a few days about several things not connected with business. Most cordially

Your

F. L.

June 24th (birthday of the Grand Duke, who is not expected back here before eight or ten days. From Baden he has gone to Switzerland with his wife).

Your photograph has arrived at last, and lights up my room.

306.

MOST UNIQUE OF MEN,

Madame Kalergi's intercession in your concert affair gives me great joy. Beautiful and noble traits of that kind are, unfortunately, seldom met with. Will you kindly forward the enclosed lines to my gracious lady protectress? I do not know her present address. You are once more in the old "Tannhauser" birth throes. Much luck! You will have to suffer much at the rehearsals, and have perhaps never undergone so hard a trial of patience as the re-writing and studying of this work, which to you is partly "ein uberwundener Standpunkt," as friend Brendel says. Through means of the "Presse Theatrale", which is kindly sent to me, I remain au courant of your exertions. Be not too much annoyed at being an immortal poet and composer; there is nothing worse in this world to which one should apply the following modified version of Leibnitz's well-known axiom: Tout est pour le mieux, dans un des plus mauvais mondes possible!

Alas! I lately again had a great misfortune. One of my few friends, the bravest and most self-sacrificing of all, is dead. Her name was Clara Riese, and she lived as pianoforte teacher at Leipzig, where, on Tuesday, I accompanied her to her last place of rest in the old Johannes cemetery.

Up to the last day I was in hopes that her incredible strength of character would keep her alive; but in vain.

Excuse this mournful message, but I am still so full of her death that I cannot help thinking of it.

Nothing is happening here. D. showed me your letter about "Rienzi", and I am thankful to you for having behaved in so accommodating and generous a manner. The opera will be taken in hand at the commencement of the season (September), and after the first performance I intend to have some conversation with His Serene Highness. Before that it would be useless.

Have you heard anything from Seebach? Madame Kalergi will be the best and most useful intercessor you could employ in this matter.

May everything succeed to your heart's desire.

Your

F. LISZT.

From the Princess I continue to have very good news; she will probably remain in Rome for some time to come.

In October Hartel will publish the last two of my twelve Symphonic Poems, "Hamlet", and "The Battle of the Huns." As soon as I have an opportunity I shall send you my medley of songs to Paris.

307.

MY DEAR RICHARD,

It will be quite right and proper for you to pay a call of thanks to the Princess Regent at Baden-Baden. Considering the well-known favour in which you stand with the Princess, and the sterling quality of her sympathy, she will not fail to have a favourable influence on the course your circumstances will take in the immediate future. Your presenting yourself personally to her is most likely to increase, if possible, her interest in your works. All this is right, and as it should be; on the other hand, it is a pity that I shall not be able to come to Baden. Excuse me from mentioning my reasons; you would perhaps think them miserable, but they determine me categorically. Although I do not think that you will return to Paris as early as Saturday, the hurried character of our meeting, especially in the landscape surroundings of Baden, would be painful. I had made arrangements to start to-night, and the resolution of resigning the pleasure of seeing you again costs me much. Nevertheless, I think it preferable to wait for an opportunity more favourable to both of us, which, I hope, will occur soon.

B. was with me when your letter of August 10th arrived. He came from Wiesbaden, where they were expecting you for a performance of "Lohengrin" (with Niemann). By-the-bye, there will be no lack of "Tannhauser" and "Lohengrin" performances in these regions. Be a little lenient and longsuffering with regard to their defects. Do not misinterpret my stopping at home for the present; there is not an atom of laziness or egoism in it--mats tout bien considere je dois faire ainsi, parceque cela vaut mieux pour vous--and I feel convinced that, later on, you will agree with me.

Your

F. L.

WEYMAR, August 14th, 1860.

My gracious master, the Grand Duke, spoke of you lately with the most lively interest, and expressed his wish to see you here, to which I replied, that for that a SPECIAL occasion would be necessary. You should not forget, however, that he has more than once interceded for you with the King of Saxony by word and by letter.

308.

PARIS, September 13th, 1860.

At last I find time and the proper mood for writing to you in a more collected manner than is usually the case. My late brief letters left a debt to you unpaid.

The letter I received from you at Baden quite satisfied me, and I felt quite ashamed at having proposed so hurried, and to you so inconvenient, a meeting. The matter simply came to this:--

A longer excursion to Germany was on my part quite out of the question, and I had to abandon all hope of the long-desired proper visit to you for this year. A brief interruption of my anything but pleasant stay in Paris was, on the other hand, very desirable to me. I had promised my wife to fetch her, if possible, from Loden. The Rhine I had never seen. I was told at the Prussian Embassy that the Princess of Prussia would shortly arrive on the Rhine, and the Saxon ambassador told me that he would be very pleased, and that it would be agreeable to the King of Saxony also, if I were to thank the Princess for the interest she had taken in the decision finally made in my favour. These various motives I developed into the plan of a very short tour to the Rhine, such as suited my limited finances. One or two days more would have caused the most painful embarrassment to me. I could of course not have thought of staying a day in Frankfort without thinking of the possibility of embracing you, but as you were unable to come, I was unable to wait at Frankfort; you understand why. Therefore, I ventured to ask you to follow me to Baden, where my narrow financial circumstances compelled me to go. I fully understand the reasons which prevented you from coming there. Pardon me for having attempted to smuggle, so to speak, our meeting into another plan. The temptation to such an attempt was too great.

You are quite mistaken, however, in thinking that a "special occasion" would be necessary for inducing me to pay a visit to Weimar. Believe me that I abide by what I told the Grand Duke at Lucerne years ago, when he asked me whether I should be inclined, in case of an amnesty, to stay at Weimar now and then. I told him that the chief reason which would attract me to Weimar would be your society, and that, therefore, I should pay frequent visits to Weimar as long as you were there. You will understand that in my relations to Weimar no change whatever has, fortunately, taken place; on the contrary, I may hope that I shall no longer be obliged to pay for the boon of your society by my participation in insufficient artistic doings (I am speaking of the opera). Be assured that I am joyfully looking forward to the day when I may set sail for Altenburg.

My position in Germany is still far from satisfactory. As you know, I am neither amnestied nor has my sentence been remitted. All I have obtained is the promise that the claim to extradition will be abandoned whenever, for the purpose of performing my works, I wish to enter a German territory, the government of which has given its consent, and asked permission of the Saxon Government. Even my six days' journey to the Rhine I could not have extended to Weimar without previously complying with those conditions, for otherwise I should have offended the Saxon Government at the very outset. Our German potentates cannot enter into direct communication with me, for I am still a political outlaw, neither must I hope for important or sufficient measures in my favour at any court, and the plans for the performances of my last works have not been advanced much. This is all the more evident, as the condition of our largest operatic theatres is most disappointing. Of Berlin I could not think at all without first contemplating the possibility of a complete revolution of affairs, both as regards the theatre and the management. I was not bold enough to approach the Princess of Prussia with any hope of producing a profound impression in that sense. I was quite satisfied with meeting in her the SPIRITUELLE, intellectual, lively woman I had pictured to myself, and I limited myself to acknowledging and thanking her for the uninterrupted sympathy she had shown for my works without being in the least tempted to communicate to her any plan or wish of mine.

It remains therefore a perfect mystery where my "Tristan" is to see the light of the world. The birth would probably be most easy if I were to trust the King of Hanover with the delivery. Niemann declares that the King would engage any singer, male or female, whom I should require for the model performance of my work as long as that performance took place at Hanover. This might lead to something; that King appears liberal and magnificent in his passion for art, and nothing else will suit me. Let us hope that my political situation will be no obstacle.