In a month or two something _philosophical_ may be expected; under the very inoffensive title of _Leisure Hours of à Psychologist_ I am saying agreeable and disagreeable things to the world at large--including that intelligent nation, the Germans. But all this is in the main nothing but recreation beside the main thing: the name of the latter is _Transvaluation of all Values_. Europe will have to discover a new Siberia, to which to consign the author of these experiments with values. I hope this high-spirited letter will find you in one of your usual _resolute_ moods. With kind remembrances, Yours, Dr. NIETZSCHE. Address till middle of November: Torino (Italia) ferma in posta. 17. BRANDES to NIETZSCHE. _Copenhagen_, Oct. 6, 1888. MY DEAR SIR, Your letter and valued gift found me in a raging fever of work. This accounts for my delay in answering. The mere sight of your handwriting gave me pleasurable excitement. It is sad news that you have had a bad summer. I was foolish enough to think that you had already got over all your physical troubles. I have read the pamphlet with the greatest attention and much enjoyment. I am not so unmusical that I cannot enter into the fun of it. I am merely not an expert. A few days before receiving the little book I heard a very fine performance of _Carmen_; what glorious music! However, at the risk of exciting your wrath I confess that Wagner's _Tristan und Isolde_ made an indelible impression on me. I once heard this opera in Berlin, in a despondent, altogether shattered state of mind, and I felt every note. I do not know whether the impression was so deep because I was so ill. Do you know Bizet's widow? You ought to send her the pamphlet. She would like it. She is the sweetest, most charming of women, with a nervous _tic_ that is curiously becoming, but perfectly genuine, perfectly sincere and full of fire. Only she has married again (an excellent man, a barrister named Straus, of Paris). I believe she knows some German. I could get you her address, if it does not put you against her that she has not remained true to her god--any more than the Virgin Mary, Mozart's widow or Marie Louise. Bizet's child is ideally beautiful and charming.--But I am gossiping. I have given a copy of the book to the greatest of Swedish writers, August Strindberg, whom I have entirely won over to you. He is a true genius, only a trifle mad like most geniuses (and non-geniuses). The other copy I shall also place with care. Paris I am not well acquainted with now. But send a copy to the following address: Madame la Princesse Anna Dmitrievna Ténicheff, Quai Anglais 20, Petersburg. This lady is a friend of mine; she is also acquainted with the musical world of Petersburg and will make you known there. I have asked her before now to buy your works, but they were all forbidden in Russia, even _Human, all-too-Human_.