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 n.o.ble 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 circ.u.mstances 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 Sat.u.r.day, 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 Emba.s.sy that the Princess of Prussia would shortly arrive on the Rhine, and the Saxon amba.s.sador 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 embarra.s.sment 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 circ.u.mstances 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 partic.i.p.ation in insufficient artistic doings (I am speaking of the opera). Be a.s.sured 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 pa.s.sion for art, and nothing else will suit me. Let us hope that my political situation will be no obstacle.

For the present my Paris enterprise occupies me altogether, and mercifully obscures my view of future German misery. I do not know what rumours are current with you as to the difficulties placed in my way. They may be well intended, but they are false.

NEVER YET HAS THE MATERIAL OF AN EXCELLENT PERFORMANCE BEEN PLACED AT MY DISPOSAL SO FULLY AND UNCONDITIONALLY as has been done at Paris for the performance of "Tannhauser" at the Grand Opera, and I can only wish that some German prince would do the same for my new works. This is the first triumph of my art which I personally witness. I owe it to the success of my works in Germany, which has gained me such warm admirers, that the Emperor, on the strength of their word, has issued a truly imperial COMMAND, which makes me master of the whole material, and protects me from all intrigues. A translation, as excellent as could have possibly been expected, is another earnest of general success. I have secured the best singers that are to be had, and the preparations in every department are made with a zeal and a care to which Germany has little accustomed me. All the leading people go with pleasure to a task which offers them a more interesting occupation than is usual. I also take the matter seriously. I am removing such weak points as I have discovered in the score. I take great delight in the re-writing of the great Venus scene, and hope to improve the effect thereby.

The ballet scene also will be executed on the larger scale designed by me.

Unfortunately I have not yet been able to begin this necessary work in the proper way. Before my journey to the Rhine the translation occupied me exclusively, and on my return here I had, first of all, to complete a little piece of literary work which has only just been finished. M. Frederic Villot, about whom H.

has probably spoken to you, asked me to publish an edition of my operatic poems in a prose-translation, and to add a preface explaining my ideas. This I have done, and I hope that the opus will appear about the beginning of October at the latest. The rehearsals are in full swing, but unfortunately I had to object to the baritone at the last moment. Fould had at once to give orders for the engagement of a new singer, but we have not yet found the right man, and this has caused a slight delay. There has, however, been no trace of ill-will on the part of any one.

M., who is working here in his underhand way, will not, after all, be able to do anything against the Emperor and the cause; he is trying, however, to secure the good engagements which have been made for me for his own benefit later on. Well, I do not grudge him this; the man has no real initiative.

You have now, dearest friend, an approximate view of my life and work. That I should be happy you can scarcely expect, but I feel the calm of the fatalist who surrenders himself to his fate, astonished perhaps a little at the often curious manner in which it disposes of me and leads me into unexpected paths, and saying to myself: "So it was to be."

With real horror I think of Germany and of my future enterprises in that country. G.o.d forgive me, but I discover nothing but mean and miserable things, conceit and a pretence of solid work without any real foundation; half-heartedness in everything.

After all I prefer to see "Le Pardon de Ploermel" in Paris than under the shadow of the famous, glorious German oak tree. I must also confess to you that my treading once more German soil did not produce the slightest impression upon me, except in so far as I was astonished at the insipidity and impertinence of the language I had to listen to. Believe me, we have no Fatherland, and if I am "German" it is because I carry my Germany along with me. This is fortunate, because the Mayence garrison has certainly not inspired me with enthusiasm.

X. seems to be angry with me; I at last got annoyed with him because his optimism irritated me.

I cannot understand a good many things, and allowance ought to be made for me on account of my curious life. X., it seems to me, fritters himself away; he undertakes too much, and by that means loses the compact, concentric quality which a true man needs. I cannot look on without being painfully affected. On the other hand, I am, no doubt, very wrong in not accepting so true a friend as he is; and I have much reason to acknowledge X."s friendship. He must not be angry with me and do as he likes; but he should be sometimes a little more punctual with his letters.

Believe me, that in spite of my Paris surroundings I feel awfully lonely, while of you I can never think except as of some one who is surrounded by people, even at Weimar. Perhaps I have a good many erroneous notions in that respect; at least Madame Street gave me to understand as much when she described her visit to you. She said that you had been very sad, although in very good health. Well, I certainly cannot see why you should be particularly joyous; at the same time this news has struck me very much, and Madame W., to whom I spoke about it, was quite frightened. There is something about you which causes you to appear surrounded by splendour and light, and makes it difficult for us to understand what could make you sad. Least of all am I inclined to discover the cause of your irritation in the stupid reception which your works have met with now and then, for it seems to me that no one ought to know better than you that this animosity is caused not by your works, but by the false light in which you appear to the mult.i.tude. That light which reveals you as so exceptional a phenomenon, that a misconception of it is only too easily accounted for, is now and then too powerful, especially for German eyes. I think, therefore, you are right in withdrawing yourself from that illumination as much as possible, and in letting your works take their own course for a time without the least anxiety about them. One thing you will gain, the avoidance of personal contact. In that, everything is misery, and believe me that while we try to "do violence to the kingdom of heaven," we only stir up the nether mud. No, the kingdom of heaven comes to us in our sleep. But enough of this vague talk!

Let us soon meet, when we shall see how we can ward off all sadness. I shall soon make a long stay with you.

G.o.d bless you, my Franz! Pardon this long talk to my desire of being near you once more.