Will the reader kindly look upon the first pages of this book as a fragment of reminiscences, which I hope some day to publish; not that my life in itself is worth relating, but it has been frequently brought in contact with that of celebrated artists. It treats here of certain experiences only, written as if for myself,--reminiscences gathered during several years of uninterrupted relations with Richard Wagner. The books already published on the master, in every language and every style, either to combat or glorify him, would fill a shelf; the catalogue of these criticisms, studies, and biographies would form a volume. Thus, the subject of his defeats, victories, and what is termed his musical system, has been exhausted; repetition is therefore useless. Beside this, I have of late renounced all idea of proselytism; after a long struggle I abandon the contest, at the moment when, to many, victory seems most probable. I have reasons for this which I do not care to indicate, but which seem to me decisive. What I have for so long a time taken to be the customary and fatal resistance, the instinctive hatred which is experienced by every public in every country for the innovations of genius, is, I fear, in France something even more. Our quick intelligence, so light, so mobile, so disposed to mockery, deprives us of that quality so indispensable to the comprehension of master works--simplicity. We cannot refrain from finding something to ridicule in grand sentiments, sublimity, and noble or terrible passions; what pleases us above all is graceful, spirited art, slightly sentimental, quick observation, and arrows of satire; also, no people can rival us when comic operas, vaudevilles, and comedies of manners are in question.