“So you are busy melting glaciers with your Nibelungen! It must be glorious to write in the presence of great Mother Nature--a joy withheld from me, for, instead of stimulating, the sea, the mountain peaks, the glories of this beautiful earth absorb me so completely that I have no room, no outlet for expression. I only feel. I can but describe the moon from her reflection at the bottom of a well.” “I am sorry I have no scores to send you, but you shall have the _Te Deum_, _Childhood of Christ_ and _Lélio_ as soon as they come out. I already have your _Lohengrin_ and should be delighted if you would let me have _Tannhäuser_. “To meet as you suggest would be indeed a pleasure, but I dare not think of it. Since Paris offers me but Dead Sea fruit I must of necessity earn my bread by travelling for bread--not pleasure. “No matter. If we could but live another hundred years or so we might perhaps understand the true inwardness of men and things. Old Demiurge must laugh in his beard at the continual triumph of his well-worn, oft-repeated farce. “But I will not speak ill of him, since he is a friend of yours and you have become his champion. I am an impious wretch, full of respect for the _Pies_. Forgive the atrocious pun! “_P.S._--Winged flights of many tinted thoughts crowd in upon me and I long to send them, were there but time. “Write me down an ass until further orders.” XXXIV 1863--GATHERING TWILIGHT Nearly ten years since I finished my memoir and during that time my life has been as full of incident as ever. But since, for nothing on earth would I go through the labour of writing again, I must just indicate the chief points. My work is over; Othello’s occupation’s gone. I no longer compose, conduct, write either prose or verse. I have resigned my post of musical critic and wish to do nothing more. I only read, think, fight my deadly weariness of soul and suffer from the incurable neuralgia that tortures me night and day. To my great surprise I have been elected a member of the Academy and my relations with my colleagues are, throughout, pleasant and friendly. In 1855 Prince Napoleon desired me to arrange a great concert in the Exhibition building for the day upon which the Emperor was to distribute the prizes. I accepted on condition that I had no pecuniary responsibility, and M. Ber, a generous and brave impresario, came forward and treated me most liberally. These concerts (for there were several besides the official one) brought me in eight thousand francs. In a raised gallery behind the throne I had placed twelve hundred musicians, who were barely heard. Not that that mattered much on the day of the ceremony, for I was stopped at the most interesting point of the very first piece (the _Imperial Cantata_ which I had written for the occasion) because the Prince had to make his speech and the music was lasting too long!!