“ ... It is very early. I slept badly, and after an unsuccessful attempt to doze off again, I got up and came to sit near the window, where I am now writing to you. What a wonderful morning! The sky is absolutely clear. A few little harmless clouds are floating over the mountains on either side the lake. From the garden comes the twitter of innumerable birds. The Dent du Midi is clear of mist, and glitters in the sunlight which catches its snow-clad peaks. The lake is smooth as a mirror. How beautiful it all is! Does it not seem hard that the fine weather should have come just as I am on the point of departure? “As regards Mozart, let me add these words. You say my worship for him is quite contrary to my musical nature. But perhaps it is just because--being a child of my day--I feel broken and spiritually out of joint, that I find consolation and rest in the music of Mozart, wherein he gives expression to that joy of life which was part of his sane and wholesome temperament, not yet undermined by reflection. It seems to me that an artist’s creative power is something quite apart from his sympathy with this or that great master. For instance, a man may admire Beethoven, and yet by temperament be more akin to Mendelssohn. Could there be a more glaring instance of inconsistency, for instance, than Berlioz the composer and champion of ultra-romanticism in music, and Berlioz the critic and adorer of Glück? Perhaps this is just an example of the attraction which makes extremes meet, and causes a big, strong man to fall in love with a tiny, delicate woman, and _vice versâ_. Do you know that Chopin did not care for Beethoven, and could hardly bear to hear some of his works? I was told this by a man who knew him personally. At any rate, I will conclude by saying that dissimilarity of temperament between two artists is no hindrance to their mutual sympathy.” _To N. F. von Meek._ “VIENNA, _April_ 8_th_ (20_th_), 1878. “ ... My next letter will reach you from Russia. “I was surprised to find the spring so much further advanced in Vienna than at Clarens. The trees there had scarcely begun to show green, while here there is a look of summer already. Vienna is so bright and sunny to-day, it would certainly have made a pleasant impression upon me had I not read the morning papers, which are full of poisonous, malicious, and abominable slanders about Russia. The _Neue Freie Presse_ takes pains to inform its readers that the action of the girl who fired at Trepov has created a revolution in Russia, that the Emperor is in peril, and must flee from the country, etc., etc.