“Here is the summer-house of Goethe where the late Grand Duke used to come to take part in the discussions of Schiller, Herder, and Wieland. There, a Latin inscription traced by the author of _Faust_. Those two attic windows, are they indeed those of Schiller? Was it this humble roof that sheltered the mighty enthusiasm of the author of _Don Carlos_? Was it right of Goethe, the rich and powerful minister, thus to leave his friend in poverty? I fear me that it was true friendship on the side of Schiller only--Goethe loved himself too well, he lived too long and death was to him a terror. “Schiller! Schiller! you deserved a less human friend! “It is one in the morning, with bitter cold and a brilliant moon. I stand entranced before that small dark house; all is silent in this city of the dead. “Within me surges up that passion of respect, regret, and love for the genius that stretches out a hand from beyond the cold dark grave, and lays a mighty finger on us poor obscure earth wanderers, and upon that humble threshold I kneel, murmuring brokenly, ‘Schiller! Schiller!’ “But I am no nearer the subject of my letter, dear friend; to soothe myself I must think of another dweller in Weimar, the talented but cold Hummel. “That calms me; I feel better! “Chélard, as Frenchman, artist, and friend, has done everything possible to help me, and the Baron von Spiegel, the superintendent, has most kindly offered me the theatre and orchestra. He did not add the chorus, which was just as well, for I heard them trying to do Marschner’s _Vampire_, and a more ghastly collection of squallers I never heard. “Of the women soloists, too, the less said the better. “But are there words to describe the bass--Génast? Is he not a true artist, a born tragedian? I wish I could have stayed long enough to hear him in Shakespeare’s _King Lear_, which they were mounting. “The orchestra is good, but, to do me special honour, Chélard and Lobe hunted up every available extra instrument in the place; there was no harp to be found, but a good pianist and perfect musician, named Montag, kindly arranged my harp parts and played them on the piano. “Everyone was eagerly ready to help, and you may imagine the rare and extreme joy of being promptly understood and followed. I will spare you a description of the applause and recalls, the compliments of their Highnesses, and the many new friends who, waiting at the stage door, bore me off and kept me till three o’clock next morning. “Where, oh where is my modesty that I retail all this? Adieu!” XXVII MENDELSSOHN--WAGNER _To_ STEPHEN HELLER.