“Foes and conspirators stayed in Paris, artists and authors journeyed to Baden to be present; Madame Charton-Demeur was perfect, both as singer and actress. “But can you believe that my neuralgia was too bad that day for me to take interest in anything? I took my place at the conductor’s desk, before that cosmopolitan audience, to direct an opera of which I had written both words and music, absolutely, deadly impassible. Whereby I conducted better than usual. I was much more nervous at the second performance. “Benazet, who always does things royally, spent outrageously in every department. He has splendidly inaugurated the new theatre and has created a furore. They want to give _Beatrice_ at the Opera Comique, but there is no one to do the heroine since Madame Charton-Demeur is going to America. “You would laugh at the critiques. People are finding out that I have melody; that I can be gay--in fact, really comic; that I am not _noisy_, which is rather obvious, since the heavy instruments are conspicuous by their absence. “How much patience I should need were I not so completely indifferent. Dear friend, I suffer a perfect martyrdom daily from four in the morning till four in the afternoon. What is to become of me? I do not tell you this to make you patient under your own afflictions--my woes are no compensation to you. “I simply cry unto you as one does to those who love and are loved. Adieu! Adieu!” * * * * * “_26th August 1862._--How I should love to come to you, as Madame Ferrand wishes! But I have much to do here owing to my wife’s death, and Louis has resigned his commission and is stranded. Besides, I am busy enlarging my _Beatrice_. “I am trying to cut or untie all the bonds that hold me to Art, that I may be able to say to Death, ‘When thou wilt.’ “I dare not complain when I think of what you bear. “Are sufferings like ours the inevitable result of our organisation? Must we be punished for having worshipped the Beautiful throughout our lives? Probably. “We have drunk too deeply of the enchanted cup; we have pursued our ideals too far. “Still, dear friend, you have a devoted wife to help you to bear your cross. You know nothing of the dread duet beating, night and day, into your brain--the joint voices of world-weariness and isolation! “God grant you never may! It is saddening music. “Good-bye! My gathering tears would make me write words that would grieve you yet more. Again, good-bye!” * * * * * “_3rd March 1863._--Your suppositions with regard to my depression are fortunately wrong; Louis has certainly worried me terribly, but I have forgiven him; he has found a ship and is now in Mexico.