The next day we went to see Vrchlicky. We were conducted by a maid into a little drawing-room, where we were kept waiting some time for the master of the house. When the door opened and he entered, I was rather disappointed. I have been so accustomed to find generally in the creators of beautiful works handsome people that I was literally horrified at Vrchlicky’s ugliness—for he is ugly, his best friend must admit it. A flat, potato-like nose, tangled hair,—only from the eyes shines forth his clear intellect, and in the metallic tones of his voice vibrates his fiery soul. “I am very much delighted,” he said, as he shook hands with us, “that you have both come to Prague. You will find here a thoroughly intelligent public.” “Well, the public, because of national antipathies, is surely not altogether receptive of our cause, as we discovered only last evening.” “Oh!” exclaimed the poet, “there are no national passions in music.” We did not understand the significance of this remark, and after a while the conversation took all sorts of turns, during which sometimes we and sometimes Vrchlicky showed the greatest astonishment in our faces, until it finally transpired that we were taken for Mr. and Mrs. Ree, the well-known piano virtuosos, who were going to give a concert that evening in Prague and had promised to call on Vrchlicky. When the misunderstanding was cleared away we warmed up to each other, and I saw that he was as enthusiastic an adherent of my cause as I was an enthusiastic admirer of his genius. Our next little journey took us to Budapest—of course also in the interest of peace. “You have become genuine peace-drummers” (_die reinen Friedens-Commis-Voyageurs_), said my father-in-law banteringly. Just as in the year 1891 it seemed a necessity to found a society in Austria, that the country might be represented at the Congress in Rome, so now, since the Interparliamentary Union had invited us to the Millennial Festival at Budapest, it seemed likewise necessary for a private society to come into existence there and invite the other societies to take part in a Peace Congress. Our Vienna Society took up the agitation of this matter in the Hungarian capital. Leopold Katscher, the well-known publicist, who had wide-branching affiliations in Hungary, where he had lived for many years, and who was now a member of our Union, made a trip to Budapest, and called on Maurus Jókai, and on the statesmen with whom I, for my part, was assiduously corresponding. And the result? Instead of giving a detailed account of this I will quote the text of the following dispatch which was sent to the Vienna press: