We find him suggesting to Liszt that a number of German princes might combine to support him, and in return accept his works as he turned them out; he suggested also that Liszt might himself guarantee him an annuity.  Liszt was from the beginning, and continued until the appearance of King Ludwig in 1864, to be the most generous of helpers, but he had ceased to go concertizing through Europe, and had not too much money to spare.  The Wesendoncks, Ritters, Wagner’s own family, all contributed as they could; but verily the man seemed to be a bottomless abyss into which all the wealth of the world might be dropped and still it would gape for more.  If all his admirers in 1850 had contributed a penny a month he might have been satisfied—­if half the number of his admirers in 1913 could have contributed a penny a year he would have had more than even he could have spent.  But no such plan seemed to be feasible; and on Liszt fell the brunt, whilst the others did what they could or thought fit to do.  Wagner may reasonably be defended against the charge of greed or luxury.  He was in chronic ill-health, and his stupendous exertions made it unlikely he would ever be better.  We can believe even Praeger when he tells us that Wagner’s skin was so sensitive that he could tolerate only the finest silk next to it; for we know that from babyhood he was tortured by eczema.  Had he not coddled himself he would not have had the strength and nerve to achieve anything at all.  He never knew one day where next day’s food was to come from; he was a homeless exile.  Happiness he never knew:  such men as Wagner are not created to be happy.  Publishers and opera-directors alike treated him scurvily.  To show his state of mind I quote a portion of another letter to Uhlig, dated September, 1850, after the production of Lohengrin at Weimar—­

“Liszt spoke to me previously about an honorarium of thirty louis d’or for Lohengrin—­instead of which I had altogether only 130 thalers.  Further, he announced to me that I should receive a commission to write Siegfried for Weimar, and be paid beforehand enough to keep me alive undisturbed until the work was finished.  Until now they preserve there the most stubborn silence.  Whether I should give Siegfried to Weimar, intending it to be produced there, is after all a question which, as matters now stand, I would probably only answer with an unqualified No!  I need not begin to assure you that I really abandoned Lohengrin when I permitted its production at Weimar.  I certainly received a letter yesterday from Zigesar, which informed me that the second performance—­given, through somewhat energetic remonstrance on my part, only after most careful rehearsals, and without cuts—­was a wonder of success and of effect on the public, and that it was perfectly clear that it was and would remain a “draw”.  Yet I need not give you my further reasons when I declare that I should wish to send Siegfried