Chapter IV: Part 4

This act of the "negation of will" is the true characteristic of the saint, which finds its last completion in the absolute cessation of personal consciousness; and all consciousness must be personal and individual. But the saints of Christianity, simple-minded and enveloped in the Jewish dogma as they were, could not see this, and their limited imagination looked upon that much-desired stage as the eternal continuation of a life, freed from nature. Our judgment of the moral import of their resignation must not be influenced by this circumstance, for in reality they also longed for the cessation of their individual personality, i.e., of their existence. But this deep longing is expressed more purely and more significantly in the most sacred and oldest religion of the human race, the doctrine of the Brahmins, and especially in its final transfiguration and highest perfection, Buddhism. This also expounds the myth of a creation of the world by God, but it does not celebrate this act as a boon, but calls it a sin of Brahma which he, AFTER HAVING EMBODIED HIMSELF IN THIS WORLD, must atone for by the infinite sufferings of this very world. He finds his salvation in the saints who, by perfect negation of the "will of life," by the sympathy with all suffering which alone fills their heart, enter the state of Nirwana, i.e., "the land of being no longer." Such a saint was Buddha. According to his doctrine of the migration of souls every man is born again in the form of that creature on which he had inflicted pain, however pure his life might otherwise have been. He himself must now know this pain, and his sorrowful migration does not cease, until during an entire course of his new-born life he has inflicted pain on no creature, but has denied his own will of life in the sympathy with other beings. How sublime, how satisfying is this doctrine compared with the Judaeo-Christian doctrine, according to which a man (for, of course, the suffering ANIMAL exists for the benefit of man alone) has only to be obedient to the Church during this short life to be made comfortable for all eternity, while he who has been disobedient in this short life will be tortured for ever. Let us admit that Christianity is to us this contradictory phenomenon, because we know it only in its mixture with, and distortion by, narrow-hearted Judaism, while modern research has succeeded in showing that pure and un-alloyed Christianity was nothing but a branch of that venerable Buddhism which, after Alexander's Indian expedition, spread to the shores of the Mediterranean. In early Christianity we still see distinct traces of the perfect negation of the "will of life," of the longing for the destruction of the world, i.e., the cessation of all existence. The pity is that this deeper insight into the essence of things can be gained alone by the abnormally organised men previously referred to, and that they only can fully grasp it. In order to communicate this insight to others, the sublime founders of religion have therefore to speak in images, such as are accessible to the common normal perception. In this process much must be disfigured, although Buddha's doctrine of the migration of souls expresses the truth with almost perfect precision. The normal vulgarity of man and the license of general egoism further distort the image until it becomes a caricature. And I pity the poet who undertakes to restore the original image from this caricature. It seems to me that Dante, especially in the "Paradise," has not succeeded in this; and in his explanation of the Divine natures he appears, to me at least, frequently like a childish Jesuit. But perhaps you, dear friend, will succeed better, and as you are going to paint a TONE picture I might almost predict your success, for music is essentially the artistic, original image of the world. For the initiated no error is here possible. Only about the "Paradise," and especially about the choruses, I feel some friendly anxiety. You will not expect me to add less important things to this important matter.

I shall soon write again; on the 26th I leave here, and shall therefore have endured to the end. Farewell dear, dear Franz.

Your

R. W.

LONDON, June 7th, 1855.

191.

ZURICH, July 5th, 1855.

DEAREST FRANZ,

Your late servant Hermann called on me today and told me that I should have a letter from you one of these days, that you and the Princess would come to Switzerland SOON (?), and a thousand other things.

I am longing for direct news from you. I have been back in Zurich since June 3Oth, after having conducted my last London concert on the 25th. You have probably heard how charmingly Queen Victoria behaved to me. She attended the seventh concert with Prince Albert, and as they wanted to hear something of mine I had the "Tannhauser" overture repeated, which helped me to a little external amende. I really seem to have pleased the Queen. In a conversation I had with her, by her desire, after the first part of the concert, she was so kind that I was really quite touched. These two were the first people in England who dared to speak in my favour openly and undisguisedly, and if you consider that they had to deal with a political outlaw, charged with high treason and "wanted" by the police, you will think it natural that I am sincerely grateful to both.

At the last concert the public and the orchestra roused themselves to a demonstration against the London critics. I had always been told that my audiences were very much in my favour, and of the orchestra I could see that it was always most willing to follow my intentions, as far as bad habits and want of time would allow. But I soon saw that the public received impressions slowly and with difficulty, and was unable to distinguish the genuine from the spurious, trivial pedantry from sterling worth, while the orchestra--out of regard for its real master and despot Costa, who can dismiss and appoint the musicians according to his will--always limited its applause to the smallest and least compromising measure. This time, at the leavetaking, it broke through all restraint. The musicians rose solemnly, and together with the whole thickly packed hall, began a storm of applause so continuous that I really felt awkward. After that the band crowded round me to shake hands, and even some ladies and gentlemen of the public held out their hands to me, which I had to press warmly. In this manner my absurd London expedition finally took the character of a triumph for me, and I was pleased at least to observe the independence of the public which this time it showed towards the critics. A triumph in MY SENSE was, of course, out of the question. In the best possible case I cannot really be known in the concert room, and that best possible case- -I mean performances fully realising my intentions--could not be achieved, owing principally to want of time. In consequence, I always retained a bitter feeling of degradation, increased by the fact that I was compelled to conduct whole programmes of monstrous length, and put together in the most tasteless and senseless manner. That I did conduct these concerts to the end was done entirely out of regard for my wife and a few friends, who would have been grieved very much by the consequences of my sudden departure from London. I am glad that the matter has been carried through, at least with favourable appearances; with the Queen I was really pleased, and to individual friends I have given great pleasure; that must suffice. The New Philharmonic would like to have me next year; what more can I desire?

One real gain I bring back from England--the cordial and genuine friendship which I feel for Berlioz, and which we have mutually concluded. I heard a concert of the New Philharmonic under his direction, and was, it is true, little edified by his performance of Mozart's "G. Minor Symphony," while the very imperfect execution of his "Romeo and Juliet" symphony made me pity him. A few days afterwards we two were the only guests at Sainton's table; he was lively, and the progress in French which I have made in London, permitted me to discuss with him for five hours all the problems of art, philosophy, and life in a most fascinating conversation. In that manner I gained a deep sympathy for my new friend; he appeared to me quite different from what he had done before. We discovered suddenly that we were in reality fellow-sufferers, and I thought, upon the whole, I was happier than Berlioz. After my last concert he and the other few friends I have in London called on me; his wife also came. We remained together till three o'clock in the morning, and took leave with the warmest embraces. I told him that you were going to visit me in September, and asked him to meet you at my house. The money question seemed to be his chief difficulty, and I am sure he would like to come. Let him know exactly when you will be here.

Klindworth was to play a concerto by Henselt yesterday at the last New Philharmonic concert, conducted by Berlioz. I made the acquaintance of Dr. Wylde, a good man, and was able to be of some use to Klindworth in that small matter. I sincerely pity him. He is much too much of an artist and a high-minded man, not to be and always remain very unhappy in London. He should try something else.

On once more touching the Continent I felt a little better. The air here suits me, and I hope soon to be again at my work, which at last I gave up in London altogether. Of the "Valkyrie" you will find little ready.

But when are you coming? If I may not expect you before September, I shall go to Seelisberg till then, starting next Monday, but if, as Hermann led me to hope, I receive a letter before then, announcing your immediate arrival, I shall of course be very happy to remain at Zurich.

Therefore let me soon hear from you. You have kept me waiting long, which indeed I might have expected after my last letter from London, for to communications of this kind your reply has always been silence. But now you must relieve me of my uncertainty as to your visit, which may at last be expected shortly once more. I need scarcely tell you that I am looking forward to it with great pleasure, and that our meeting will be to me the only joy after long trouble.

I am expecting a letter from you with great impatience. Cordial greetings in advance from your

RICHARD. 192.

Welcome in Zurich, dearest Richard, where I hope to see you at the end of September or October.

My Hungarian journey is still somewhat uncertain, as, according to the latest news, the cathedral will probably not be quite finished this year. But in any case I shall come to you this autumn, and shall let you know my arrival in Zurich a few weeks in advance. The satisfactory close of your stay in London has pleased me very much, and, as I know London, I think it would be well if you were to go there again next season. About this and some other business I shall tell you more when I see you.

In the meantime I am delighted at your friendly relations with Berlioz. Of all contemporary composers he is the one with whom you can converse in the simplest, openest, and most interesting manner. Take him for all in all, he is an honest, splendid, tremendous fellow; and, together with your letter, I received one from Berlioz, in which he says amongst other things: "Wagner will, no doubt, tell you all about his stay in London, and what he has had to suffer from predetermined hostility. He is splendid in his ardour and warmth of heart, and I confess that even his violence delights me. It seems there is a fate against my hearing his last compositions. The day when, at the demand of Prince Albert, he conducted his 'Tannhauser' overture at the Hanover Square Rooms, I was compelled at the same hour to attend a horrible choral rehearsal for the New Philharmonic concert which I had to conduct two days afterwards," etc.

And lower down: "Wagner has something singularly attractive to me, and if we both have asperities, those asperities dovetail into each other:"

[drawing]

(Berlioz's drawing is more brilliant than mine.)

Many thanks for your Dante letter. By way of answer, I hope to show you the first half of my work at Zurich, together with some other things which will illustrate my aims to you more distinctly than anything I could tell you.

During the next few weeks I shall have to work at my "Prometheus" choruses, which I want to publish soon, and for that purpose I must write an entirely new score. For in the year 1850, when I composed this work, I had too little time (scarcely a month), and was too much occupied by the "Lohengrin" rehearsals to give it the necessary finish. I have now kept in view the means of performance more than before, and although the design and the conception remain essentially unchanged, the whole thing will have a better appearance. It is a similar process as in sculpture, when the artist works in marble. Before the performance a symphonic, and still more, a dramatic work exists, so to speak, only in CLAY. I could easily illustrate this comparison by the new score of your "Faust" overture, and by some of the changes you have made in the "Flying Dutchman." Wait a little, dearest Richard, and you will see what a lot of stuff, and how much material for conversation I shall bring with me. The end of last week I spent in Dresden, where I called upon our friends, the Ritters. Sascha Ritter, our Weymar Court musician, has been blessed with a little daughter, whose god-father I shall have the honour to be. His mother-in-law has been staying here for some weeks, and Johanna Wagner is expected in September.

Our theatrical affairs are in a critical condition. The Intendant, Herr von Beaulieu, is going to leave, and the artistic director, Marr, is also said to have sent in his resignation. I do not trouble myself about these matters, and look forward with perfect peace of mind to the solution of these somewhat unimportant questions.

Gutzkow's call to Weymar, which the papers announced several times, is not in itself unlikely, but will probably be delayed a little, as nothing definite has, as yet, been done.

Farewell, and set to work at your "Valkyrie." Go up your mountains, and bring the very skies down to your music. In September, or at the latest, in October, we shall meet.

Your

F. L.

Your kindness and friendship for Klindworth have obliged me particularly, and I ask you to continue them.

WEYMAR, July 11th, 1855.

P.S.--I shall remain here all the summer.

193.

SEELISBERG, CANTON URI, July 22nd, 1855.

DEAREST FRIEND,

I think of nothing now but our meeting and being together. I am glad you did not come sooner, because at present I should be able to show you very little of the "Valkyrie," and I am pleased therefore to have a good deal of time for the completion of the score. By November I shall have finished, at least, the first two acts, even the clean copy of them.

Consider this, and bear in mind that it will be a CLIMAX OF OUR LIVES, for the sake of which all common things must be got over and brought into order. I count upon your magnanimity.

Farewell for today. I send you many greetings from a longing heart.

Your R. W.

194.

DEAR FRANZ,

You are my court business agent, once for all. Be kind enough to forward, through the Weimar minister at Hanover, the enclosed letter to the king as soon as possible. My theatrical agent, Michaelson, has exceeded his legal rights by selling "Lohengrin" to the Hanover theatre without asking me, and for a much smaller sum than they had previously paid me for "Tannhauser" on my direct application. The Intendant will not hear of my cancelling the sale, and all that remains to me is to apply to the king himself. You will take care of this, will you not?

Why did you not answer my last question?

One million greetings from

Your

R. W.

195.

In spite of many attempts and inquiries backwards and forwards, I have not found a sure way of obtaining a hearing from his Majesty, the King of Hanover. It appears to me that the best thing you can do in this matter is to write a few lines to Joachim or, in case he should be absent on his travels, to Capellmeister Wehner at Hanover, and to enclose your letter to the king. I, for my part, cannot undertake this commission, as I have no relations with Hanover just now, and should not like to be responsible for a failure. Wehner (I am not quite certain as to the spelling of his name) is on very good terms with the king, and will be glad to be of service to you. It will be necessary, however, that you should write to him a few lines direct, in which please mention me. I herewith return your letter to the king. Kindly excuse this delay; I was absent for several days, and some other measures, which I thought had been taken for the purpose, have come to nothing.

In November you will see me, and I agree to everything that is agreeable to you. By then several of my scores will be in print, which will make it easier for us to read them. During these last months I have been occupied so much by visits, correspondence, and business matters that I could scarcely devote a few hours to my work. I am sometimes angry and wild at the ridiculous troubles I have to go through, and long for our days at the Zeltweg.

Write to me later on when my visit will be most convenient to you, in November or at Christmas?

The Princess and her daughter stayed several weeks at Berlin, and for the last week they have been in Paris. I do not expect them back here till the middle of September. In the meantime my son Daniel--who at this year's concours at the "Lycee Bonaparte," as well as in the "Concours General," again distinguished himself and carried off several prizes--has arrived at the Altenburg.

One of these days you will receive from Bussenius, with whom you were in correspondence before, your biography. It has been written with the best intentions, and will probably be read far and wide. Under the pseudonym of W. Neumann, Bussenius has edited a biographical collection, "Die Componisten der neueren Zeit," for E. Balde of Cassel, and the success has been such that a second edition of some of the volumes will soon be published. I have asked Bussenius to send you the little book.

My friendly greetings to your wife. Do not forget your

F. LISZT.

196.

MY DEAR FRANZ,

Your silence makes me very anxious. Whenever I look around me and into my future, I see nothing that can rouse me, elate me, comfort me, and give me strength and arms for the new troubles of life except our meeting, and the few weeks you are going to devote to me. If as to the exact time of that period of salvation I expressed a wish to you, it was done with the care with which one likes to realise beforehand a supreme blessing, well knowing that it must be bought with long sadness, both before and after. But perhaps you misunderstood me after all, and thought that, apart from the happiness of seeing you again, I was looking for something else, quite independent thereof, and this perhaps may have made you angry. Let me know, in a few words, how things are, and when you are coming. I should certainly like to show you as much as possible of my "Valkyrie," and principally for that reason I did not object to this delay of your much-desired visit. In my present condition, however, I have little hope of gaining much work by this gain of time. My mental disharmony is indescribable; sometimes I stare at my paper for days together, without remembrance or thought or liking for my work. Where is that liking to spring from? All the motive power which, for a time, I derived from my dreary solitude is gradually losing its force. When I commenced and quickly finished the "Rhinegold," I was still full of the intercourse with you and yours. For the last two years all around me has grown silent, and my occasional contact with the outer world is inharmonious and dispiriting. Believe me, this cannot go on much longer. If my external fate does not soon take a different turn, if I find no possibility of seeing you more frequently, and of hearing or producing some of my works now and then, my fountain will dry up, and the end be near. It is impossible for me to go on like this.

You may imagine, then, how I look forward to your coming, and what I must feel when suddenly I see myself forsaken by you. Comfort me soon. After much trouble the first half of the "Valkyrie," including a clean copy, has got finished. I should like to show you the two acts complete, but am still waiting for the real love of work. For the last week indisposition has prevented me from doing anything, and if this goes on I almost doubt whether I shall be able to finish this work from the sketches.

Your article about the "Harold" symphony was very beautiful, and has warmed my heart. I shall write to Berlioz tomorrow; he must send me his scores. HE will never know ME thoroughly; his ignorance of German prevents this; he will always see me in vague and deceptive outline. But I will honestly use my advantage over him, and bring him nearer to me.

How are matters with you? I hear about you now and then, but you are silent.

Adieu! Imagine a very long sigh here.

197.

DEAREST RICHARD,

I enclose a letter from T. Hagen, of New York, where he has been settled for about a year, and does good work as a musician and musical author. The letters in the "Leipzig Signale," signed "Butterbrod," are his, and some time ago he published a volume about music in its relation to social interests, the exact title of which I cannot remember. He is a friend of Klindworth's, and associates with your admirers and partisans. With Mason Brothers I have some connection through William Mason, one of my pupils, who lived eighteen months in Weymar. As far as I know, the firm is SOLID and respectable.

Although I do not suppose that you will accept the offer of conducting concerts in America during next winter, I ask you to let me have an answer (addressed to me) soon, because I shall wait for your letter concerning this matter, in order to forward it to Hagen. A Beethoven musical festival in connection with the inauguration of the Beethoven statue at Boston would not be amiss, and the pecuniary result might be very favourable.

Johanna Wagner arrived here the day before yesterday, and she and her parents will stay a week in Weymar with her sister, Frau Ritter. I spent several hours with her last night.

"Tannhauser" is to be produced at Berlin in December.

How far have you got with the "Valkyrie?" I am looking forward to our meeting in November.

The Princess and the Child are still in Paris. They study carefully the exhibition of pictures, and see a good deal of Scheffer, Delacroix, and other artistic notabilities, which suits them exactly. About the 25th of this month I expect them here, where, in the meantime, I am terribly bored by the load of tedious things which are imposed upon me, and with the relation of which I will not trouble you. On the 16th the theatre will be opened with Nicolai's "Merry Wives." After that we shall have "The Huguenots," "Cellini," and Verdi's "I Due Foscari." "Lohengrin" will not be given just yet because Ortrud (Frau Knopp) has left us, and the new prima donna, Fraulein Woltendorff, will at least require three or four months to learn the part. But as "Tannhauser" and the "Flying Dutchman" have proved "draws," they will be sure to be thrashed out thoroughly.

I, for my part, am sick of the whole theatrical business, but I am compelled, to stick to it in a half-and-half sort of way, because, without me, things would probably be still worse.

Your

F. L.

Return Hagen's letter to me.

198.

ZURICH, September 13th, 1855.

Your last but one letter, dear Franz, was the best answer to my last, the two having crossed on the way. As to our final meeting I use all the arts of an experienced voluptuary in order to get the most out of it. As it has been delayed so long, I should almost like to finish the whole "Valkyrie" previously. The completion of this work, the most TRAGIC which I have ever conceived, will cost me much, and I must think of recovering what I have put into it by the most cheering impressions, and those YOU ONLY can supply. The thought of being able to go with you through this work also is my only hope of reward. I am quite unable to deal with it on the piano to my own satisfaction. You must introduce it to me. For that reason I am thinking of delaying our meeting till I can go through THE WHOLE with you. Thus my highest need has made an egoist of me. The first two acts I hope to have finished and copied out at the end of October, the whole by Christmas. You said in your last letter it would suit you equally well to come either in November or at Christmas. This induced me to curb my impatience to see you again till then, so as to make it possible, by the most incessant industry, to place the whole, completed and fairly copied, before you, including the last act, which is so important to me. Must I then ASK you to delay your visit till Christmas? It sounds absurd enough, but you will understand my pedantry. If you agree, and if no further delay will become necessary on that account, I shall send you the first two acts for inspection at the end of October, and you can bring them back with you.

What shall I say to you of this New York offer? I was told in London that they intended to invite me. It is a blessing that they do not offer me very much money. The hope of being able to earn a large sum, say ten thousand dollars, in a short time, would, in the great helplessness of my pecuniary position, compel me, as a matter of course, to undertake this American expedition, although even in that case it would perhaps be absurd to sacrifice my best vital powers to so miserable a purpose, and, as it were, in an indirect manner. But as a man like me has no chance of a really lucrative speculation, I am glad that I am not exposed to any serious temptation, and therefore ask you to thank the gentlemen of New York very kindly, in my name, for the unmerited attention they have shown me, and to tell them that, "for the present," I am unable to accept their invitation. I puzzle my head about the cause of the journey which the Princess and the Child have taken to Paris; is it for amusement and nothing else? Greet them both most cordially for me when they return; could they not come with you to a poor devil in Switzerland just as well as go to Paris? If you would let me cater for you I could arrange matters very cheaply. At the "Hotel (Pension) Baur au lac," where you stayed before, one can, during the WINTER, have brilliant, large, and comfortable rooms for VERY LITTLE. A family of my acquaintance occupied a whole floor there last winter, and lived very well at a fabulously cheap rate. The Wesendoncks are also staying there, and you might set up a splendid, half-common MENAGE, which would be a great joke. Well, the chief thing will be to have a good piano for our two selves, and of that I will take care, although I cannot provide so splendid an instrument as that which Erard sent me in London, and for which I forgot to thank you. I believe if I had such an instrument I should still learn to play the piano.

I am much annoyed about Hanover. I know of no way to address a reclamation to the King. I have no faith in Wehner's intercession. As a subordinate of Count P.'s, he can risk no step which might compromise him with that official. But these are disgusting things to write about. You also complain of troubles. Tell me, why do not we live together? Must it be Weimar of all places? Another time more about this. For today farewell, and let me thank you for being in existence.

Your

R. W.

199.

DEAREST RICHARD,

Over America I had forgotten Hanover, and must not omit once more to point out Wehner to you as the best advocate of your claims there. If the matter of the honorarium can be arranged according, to your wish, he will be the most likely man to do it. From Joachim I have heard nothing since the Dusseldorf festival. Wehner lives at Hanover, and is in particular favour with His Majesty, and he will be most eager to do you a little service if you will ask him in a friendly manner.

At the end of December, about Christmas, I shall be with you. Then we will feed like the gods on your "Rhinegold" and "Valkyrie," and I, too, shall contribute some hors d'oeuvre.

F. L.

WEYMAR, September 23rd, 1855.

Write to me, at the first opportunity, whether ten thousand or twelve thousand dollars, with proper guarantee, would be a sufficient honorarium if you were to act as conductor in America for six months.

200.

October 3rd, 1855.

Today, dearest Franz, I send you the two first acts of the "Valkyrie" finished. It is a great satisfaction to me to place them at once in your hands, because I know that no one sympathises with my work as you do. I am anxious for the very weighty second act; it contains two catastrophes, so important and so powerful, that there would be sufficient matter for two acts; but then they are so interdependent, and the one implies the other so immediately, that it was impossible to separate them. If it is represented exactly as I intend, and if my intentions are perfectly understood, the effect must be beyond anything that has hitherto been in existence. Of course, it is written only for people who can stand something (perhaps in reality for nobody). That incapable and weak persons will complain, cannot in any way move me. You must decide whether everything has succeeded according to my own intentions. I cannot do it otherwise. At times, when I was timid and sobered down, I was chiefly anxious about the great scene of Wotan, especially when he discloses the decrees of fate to Brynhild, and in London I was once on the point of rejecting the whole scene. In order to come to a decision, I took up the sketch, and recited the scene with proper expression, when, fortunately, I discovered that my spleen was unjustified, and that, if properly represented, the scene would have a grand effect even in a purely musical sense. The manner of expression I have in places indicated very accurately, but it still remains, and will indeed be my principal task, to introduce a gifted singer and actor to the very core of my intentions by means of personal communication. You, I firmly hope, will find out the right thing at once. For the development of the great tetralogy, this is the most important scene of all, and, as such, it will probably meet with the necessary sympathy and attention.

If you should like nothing at all in my score, you will, at least, be pleased once more with my neat hand-writing, and will think the precaution of red lines ingenious. This representation on paper will probably be the only one which my work will achieve, for which reason I linger over the copying with satisfaction.

I hope, more firmly than ever, to finish the last act by Christmas. That you allow yourself to be ordered about by me is too kind of you, and touches me deeply. In return, I promise to behave very reasonably when you come. In the meantime I shall nurse the feeble remnants of my voice in every way, and during the last weeks before your arrival I shall try a few solfeggi, in order to restore the overstrained and badly treated instrument to a tolerable condition. Must I assure you once more, that I look forward to our meeting with a sacred awe!

As far as we require society, it will not be unpleasant this time. You probably know that Semper has been appointed here. I take great pleasure in him--an artist through and through, and of his nature more amiable than before, though still fiery. Carl Ritter also will settle here. He pleases me better than ever. His intellect is vast, and I do not know another young man like him. He loves you sincerely, and understands you well.

Berlioz replied lately to a letter of mine, in which I had asked him, amongst other things, to make me a present of all his scores, if he could get them gratis. That he cannot do, because his earlier publishers will give him no more free copies. I confess that it would interest me very much to study his symphonies carefully in full score. Do you possess them, and will you lend them to me, or will you go so far as to give them to me? I should accept them gratefully, but should like to have them soon.

The Hanover business has been settled satisfactorily, the Intendant having apparently seen the error of his ways. I thank you for your well-intended advice with regard to Wehner, and regret to have troubled you with this trumpery business.

America is a terrible nightmare. If the New York people should ever make up their minds to offer me a considerable sum, I should be in the most awful dilemma. If I refused I should have to conceal it from all men, for every one would charge me in my position with recklessness. Ten years ago I might have undertaken such a thing, but to have to walk in such by-ways now in order to live would be too hard,--now, when I am fit only to do, and to devote myself to, that which is strictly my business. I should never finish the "Nibelungen" in my life. Good gracious! such sums as I might EARN in America, people ought to GIVE me, without asking anything in return beyond what I am actually doing, and which is the best that I can do. Besides this, I am much better adapted to spend 60,000 francs in six months than to "earn" it. The latter I cannot do at all, for it is not my business to "earn money," but it is the business of my admirers to give me as much money as I want, to do my work in a cheerful mood. Well, it is a good thing, and I will take courage from the thought that the Americans will make me no such offer. Do not you instigate it either, for in the "luckiest" case it would be a great trouble to me. Of your dear ones I never have any real news; I am frequently asked, and do not know what to say. But you must greet them all the more cordially for me, and, if you can, love me with all your heart. Will you not? Adieu.

Your R. W.

And how about your great compositions? To know them at last is worth a whole life to me. I have never looked forward with such desire to anything. Let me know AT ONCE that my score has arrived, so that I may not worry myself about it.

201.

One word, dearest Franz, to say that my score has safely arrived! I am anxious.

Your

R.

202.

Your "Valkyrie" has arrived, and I should like to reply to you by your "Lohengrin" chorus, sung by 1,000 voices, and repeated a thousandfold: "A wonder! a wonder!"

Dearest Richard, you are truly a divine being, and it is my joy to feel after you and to follow you.

More by word of mouth about your splendid, tremendous work, which I am reading "in great inner excitement," to the horn rhythm, page 40, in D:

[musical notation] The scores of Berlioz I possess, but have lent them all to friends for the moment, and shall not be able to get them back for some weeks.

About the middle of November I shall send you a parcel of them. You will find in them much to please you.

The day after tomorrow I am going for a few days to Brunswick to conduct, on the 18th instant, one of the Symphony Concerts given by the orchestra there. For the 2lst, Sunday week, your "Flying Dutchman" is announced here, and at the beginning of November there will be a performance of "Tannhauser" in honour of several Berlin people (Hulsen, Dorn, the operatic stage manager Formes, etc.), who have announced their visit here. I shall send you an account of it.

Go on with your "Valkyrie," and permit me to adapt the proverb,

"Quand on prend du galon, on n'en saurait trop prendre,"

to your case in the following manner:

"Quand on fait du sublime on n'en saurait trop faire, surtout quand ce n'est qu'une question de nature et d'habitude!"

Your

F.

WEYMAR, October 12th, 1855.

203.

November 16th, 1855.

DEAREST FRANZ,

Thank the Child a thousand times for her letter, and tell her that I shall not send the album back till you return from here, because I want to write something good in it which will not be finished till then.

I must write many and reasonable things to the Princess, and that I cannot do at present. So I remain in her debt also, but only to satisfy her. She may see from this how much I value her letter.

I have not yet gone out into the air; but I am getting accustomed to my room, and do not particularly long for our autumn mists. I am doing a little work too. You are coming, are you not?

I should like to be silent till then and for ever, for whenever I speak or write it is sure to be something stupid.

Au revoir!!!

204.

DEAR FRANZ,

I am making a tentative effort to rise from the sick bed on which I have lain again exactly three weeks.

Carl Ritter has informed you of my condition. The thorns of my existence have now been supplemented by blooming "roses." I have suffered from continual attacks of erysipelas in the face. In the luckiest case I shall not be able to go out into the air this year, and during the whole winter I shall live in continual fear of relapses. For the slightest excitement, accompanied by the least cold, may throw me back on my sick bed for two or three weeks at any moment.

I am now reaping the fruit of my stupid postponement of your visit, for I cannot possibly expect you to visit me in the present uncertain state of my health. Anyhow, I thus relieve you of the burden which a visit in this evil, hard winter would no doubt have been to you. As concerns myself, nothing can make my mood worse than it is. I am getting accustomed to all kinds of trouble, and the disagreeable and the necessary and natural are to me convertible terms.

I long for news of you, of which you are too chary.

As soon as I get better and am accustomed to sitting up I shall write more. For today a thousand greetings to the Altenburg.

Your

R. W.

ZURICH, December 12th, 1855.

205.

Chronos has made another step across all our heads. How can I write to you, dear poet, without telling you of the kind wishes which I and the Child entertain for you, and the desire we both of us have of seeing you again in the course of 1856? I can assure you that if fate were to send me a messenger with the assurance of this, I should consider it the best New Year's gift, although there are many things which I demand of it.

But one must hope--hope is a virtue. Is not this a beautiful identification?

It gives us great pain to know that you are suffering. I would accept double and treble the rheumatism which I have caught in this climate, where we have eight months of bad weather, and not four of fine, if I could secure you perfect liberty thereby. Liszt is sad because his travelling plans are disarranged, although he hopes to see you more at his ease another time. He must be at Vienna at the beginning of January in order to conduct a Mozart festival given for the centenary of the Master's birthday; and as Berlioz is coming here at the beginning of February, he will have to leave Vienna immediately afterwards.

The papers have no doubt informed you of his stay at Berlin, where he will soon return to attend the first performance of "Tannhauser," two rehearsals of which he almost entirely conducted. Stupid people will not be silenced thereby. To poets living in the tropical regions, where passion expands her gigantic blossoms and her sidereal marvels, stupid people appear like little gadflies which sometimes annoy them and draw blood by their stings, but cannot disturb the enchantment of this luxuriant nature. Liszt also has been honoured by a swarm of these insects, which buzz with all the more noise and self- sufficiency because they can make so little honey. He is quite composed, and goes quietly on his way, only uttering occasionally such BONMOTS as "They have cast me down, but I remain standing none the less," or "What does it matter if other people do things badly so long as I do them well?" etc., etc.; and so life goes on.

Write to me, dear poet, and do not always wait for a REASON; and if you will give pleasure to my daughter send her for the New Year the autograph for which she has asked you.

Embrace your wife for me, and convey to her my kindest wishes. She ought to be sure of them, as indeed ought you. Have you resumed the "Valkyrie?" The duet between Siegmund and Siegliende has made me shed copious tears. It is as beautiful as love, as the Infinite, as earth and the heavens.

Your devoted,

CAROLYNE W.

December 23rdd, 1855.

206.

Today I ought to be with you and prepare your Christmas tree, where the rays and gifts of your genius should shine. And now we are apart, you troubled with erysipelas, and I with all manner of red roses grown in similar gardens. But this abominable FLORA shall not delay the joy of our meeting too long.

You probably know that I have to go to Vienna, in January, to conduct the Centenary Mozart Festival, which takes place on January 27th, and will require at least a few weeks' preparation. At the beginning of February I shall be back here. Berlioz is coming on the 8th of February, and Johanna Wagner on the 20th. Berlioz's "Faust" and "Cellini" will be given before the 16th, and your niece is announced in three roles. As soon as this is over I shall write to tell you when I can come to Zurich, but I am afraid I shall have to wait for the summer.

At Berlin, where I stayed three weeks, I attended a few pianoforte rehearsals of "Tannhauser," by invitation of Messrs. von Hulsen and Dorn, and if the first performance is not delayed after January 6th to 8th (for when it is announced), I shall be able to send you a report of it as an eye and ear witness. Johanna will sing and act Elizabeth beautifully, and Formes is studying his part most conscientiously. Dorn has already had a number of pianoforte and string rehearsals, and makes it a point of honour to produce the work as correctly and brilliantly as possible.

No doubt "Tannhauser" will become a "draw" at Berlin, which is the chief thing, even for the composer, and I hope that the CRITICAL treatment which I received at the hands of the critics will redound to the credit of "Tannhauser," and that the infallible impression of your work on the public will not be impaired by carping notices. I shall write to you about this at great length.

The day after tomorrow, Boxing-day, we shall have "Tannhauser" here, which retains its position as a "draw," a distinction which it shares at Weymar, with "Lohengrin" and "The Flying Dutchman."

Next spring "Lohengrin" is to be mounted again here. Up to the present we still want an Ortrud, and, unfortunately, cannot get a good one from elsewhere. The Leipzig one would, for example, be quite useless, and the voice of Frau Knopp is still much impaired by her late illness.

I am looking forward to "Lohengrin," that wonderful work, which, to me, is the highest and most perfect thing in art--until your "Nibelungen" is finished.

At Berlin, at Count Redern's, I heard a few pieces from "Lohengrin" splendidly executed by several regimental bands, and was reminded of our pompous entry into the "Drei Konige" of Basle: Our new Weymar Union has adopted the entry of the trumpets

[Musical notation]

as its "Hoch," and I wish we could sing it to you in chorus soon.

Of my concert affairs, etc., I have nothing to tell you. When I come to you I shall bring some of my scores with me. The rest will not interest us much. With similar compositions, the only question is, what is IN them? The publication I shall delay a few months (although six numbers are already engraved), for the reason that some of my EXCELLENT friends (an expression which Kaulbach is fond of using for people who do not like him) had the EXCELLENT intention of producing these things at once by way of a WARNING EXAMPLE. That amiable intention I want to forestall by a few performances under my own direction during the winter.

Try to get better again soon, and remember kindly

Your faithful

F. LISZT.

December 24th, 1855.

Best remembrances to Ritter.

207.

DEAR FRANZ,

I am again, or rather still, unwell and incapable of anything. I was just going to write something in the album, so that the Child might have it for the new year. But it will not do; my head is too confused and heavy. I write to you only to tell you so; a real letter I could not accomplish. Apart from this I have nothing to tell you; I mean that I have no materials.

I should like to ask you, however, to return the two acts of the "Valkyrie" to me at once before you start. I have at last found a good copyist to whom I have promised work, and I am anxious to have the copy finished soon,--perhaps for the same reason which induces insects to place their eggs in safety before they die.

If I ever finish the last act I will send you the whole, although you are so great a man of the world. Till then be of good cheer, and remember that if you are abused you have willed it so. I also rejoice in the FIASCO of my "Faust" overture, because in it I see a purifying and wholesome punishment for having published the work in despite of my better judgment; the same religious feeling I had in London when I was bespattered with mud on all sides. This was the most wholesome mud that had ever been thrown at me.

I wish you joy for the Vienna mud.

Adieu, and do your work well. Of your Christianity I do not think much; the Saviour of the world should not desire to be the conqueror of the world. There is a hopeless contradiction in this in which you are deeply involved.

My compliments and thanks to the Princess, and tell the Child that I was unable to manage it today. WHEN shall I? Heaven knows! It is largely your own fault.

Adieu. I cannot say more, and have, moreover, talked nonsense enough. Farewell, and enjoy yourself.

208.

TELEGRAM

TO R. WAGNER, ZELTWEG, ZURICH.

Yesterday "Tannhauser." Excellent performance. Marvellous mise- en-scene. Much applause. Good luck.

F. LISZT.

BERLIN, January 8th, 1856.

2O9.

DEAREST RICHARD,

From Berlin I brought home so dreadful a cold that I had to go to bed for a few days, and to delay my journey till this evening. I have to supplement my Berlin telegram by the following notes:--

Johanna was beautiful to see and touching to hear as Elizabeth. In the duet with Tannhauser she had some splendid moments of representation, and her great scene in the finale she sang and realised in an incomparable manner. Formes's intonation was firm, pure, and correct, and there was no sign of fatigue in the narration, where his sonorous, powerful voice told admirably. Altogether Formes is not only adequate but highly satisfactory, in spite of his small stature, which, especially by the side of Johanna, somewhat interferes with the illusion. Herr Radwaner as Wolfram, although not equal to our Milde, deserves much praise for the neatness, elegance, and agreeable style of singing with which he executed his part; and Madame Tuczek proved herself to be an excellent musician and a well-trained actress, who may be confidently intrusted with the most difficult part. Dorn and the band took every pains to carry out your intentions, and the orchestral performance was throughout successful, with the exception of two wrong tempi, in the first chorus

[Here, Wagner illustrates with a 2-bar musical example.]

where you have forgotten to mark the tempo as piu moderato, that is almost twice as slow as before, and in the G major passage (before the ensemble in B major), which, in my opinion, was also taken too fast, the rhythmical climax of the second part of the finale being considerably impaired thereby.

The chorus had studied its part well, but it is much too weak for Berlin, and in proportion to the vastness of the opera house, scarcely more efficient than ours, which always gives me great dissatisfaction. The stringed instruments, also, are not sufficiently numerous, and should, like the chorus, be increased by a good third. For a large place like this eight to ten double basses, and fifteen to twenty first violins, etc., would certainly not be too many at important performances. On the other hand, the scenery and mounting of "Tannhauser" left nothing to be desired, and I can assure you that never and nowhere have I seen anything so splendid and admirable. Gropius and Herr von Hulsen have really done something extraordinary and most tasteful. You have heard, no doubt, that his Majesty the King had ordered the decorations of the second act to be faithfully reproduced after the designs for the restoration of the Wartburg, and that he had sent Gropius to Eisenach for the purpose. The aspect of the hall with all the historic banners, and the costumes taken from old pictures, as well as the court ceremonial during the reception of the guests by the Landgrave, gave me incredible pleasure, as did also the arrangement of the huntsmen with their horns on the hill, the gradual filling up of the valley by the gathering of the hunt (four horses and a falcon bringing up the rear) in the finale of the first act; and, finally, the fifteen trumpets in the march of the second act

[Musical notation]

which blew their flourish from the gallery of the hall in a bold and defiant manner.

I only hope, dearest Richard, that you will hear and see all this before very long, and when I pay you a visit in the course of the summer, we shall have some more talk about it.