Well, you have now a good insight into the joy of my existence.  Do not delay communicating to me a fragment of your life.  The only thing that makes our position towards this misery of world and life tolerable is the growing contempt for world and life; and if one can arrive at that in a good humour, things are all right for a little while.  But when one perceives how few things hold water, when one observes the terrible superficiality, the incredible thoughtlessness, the selfish desire for pleasure, which inspire every one, one’s own earnestness appears often in a very comic light.  This consideration is to me, at least, the only one which sometimes puts me in a tolerable mood.

A thousand cordial greetings to you, my dearest Franz; with Mamma I get on very well.  The old lady quite touches me by her love and sympathetic insight.  Farewell, and remember lovingly,

Your

R. W.

301.

Depeche Telegraphique.

Weymar, le 22 Mai.

Deposee sous le no. 93 a 12 heures 31 minutes s.  Expediee a domicile le 22 a 2 heures 15 minutes soir.

Richard Wagner,

Rue Newton, 16, champs Elysees,

Chemin de Versailles, Paris.

Cordial wishes for your birthday from your

Franz Liszt.

302.

Your letter, dearest, unique friend, is to me more beautiful than the most beautiful balmy May day.  May you rejoice in the joy which it has given to me.

I wish I could telegraph myself to Paris.  Where could I be more happy than with you, in the magic circle of “Rhinegold”, the “Valkyrie”, “Siegfried”, “Tristan” and “Isolde”—­all of them the objects of my longing?  But I must not think of this for the present, although I shall certainly come as soon as I can.

Your photograph has been announced to me by an amiable hand, but has not made its appearance so far.  I told you before that your little bust stands on my writing-desk as UNICUM.  The photograph will find its place in the same room, which otherwise contains nothing artistic.  Beethoven, Weber, Schubert, and others of that stamp keep company to your portrait (that with the motto, “Du weisst wie das wird”) in the ante-room.  Here I want to have you alone together with my St. Francis, whom Steinly has designed for me splendidly.  He stands on heaving ocean-waves, his outspread cloak on, firmly, unmovedly.  In his left hand he calmly holds burning coals; the right is extended in the act of blessing; his gaze is turned upwards, where the word “charitas” glows, surrounded by an aureole.

The great life-question of the Princess has been finally and favourably settled.  All the villainous and subtle intrigues which were spun for a number of years have been dispelled.

After the return of the Princess from Rome (where she arrived last Sunday, and will probably stay till the end of July) all will be arranged.  I wish I could soon have the pleasure of seeing you Chez nous.