I am surprised that you found so many mistakes in the proofs of the “Faust” score, for, amongst other advantages which they possess as publishers, one is bound in justice to admit that the Hartels have excellent readers (Dorffel, Schellenberg, etc.).  Therefore use time and patience in correcting, and where necessary let the plates be engraved over again.

When shall you be back in Zurich?  At Dusseldorf they were saying that you had already left London, and jealous Philistia received the news with a joy which I was not sorry to spoil.  Whatever may happen, and however it may happen, I implore you to

“Hold out and persevere.”

In your capacity of poeta sovrano, you must, as Dante says of Homer, pass on your way quietly and undisturbedly, si come sire.  All this dirt does not touch you.  Write your “Nibelungen,” and be content to live on as an immortal!

Later on I shall ask Klindworth to let me see the pianoforte arrangement of the first act of the “Valkyrie.”  How about that of the “Rhinegold?” Has H. kept it?  Write to me about it, so that I may know how to get at it.

I have advised H. to settle in Berlin, where his position at the music school will be very useful to him.  There is not much to be got by travelling about in our days.  Later on he may go to Paris and London, but for the next few years Berlin will be a good field for his activity.

I shall stay here during the summer, until I start for Gran at the end of August.  The musical task which occupies me is a new and considerably altered score of my choruses to “Prometheus,” which I want to publish next winter.  As soon as it is finished I shall return to my Dante symphony, which has partly been sketched.

Farewell, dearest, most unique of friends, and write soon to your serf, body and soul,

F. L.

Weymar, June 2nd, 1855.

The Princess and the Child send cordial greetings.

190.

Let me express to you, best of men, my astonishment at your enormous productiveness.  You have a Dante symphony in your head, have you?  And it is to be finished in the autumn?  Do not be annoyed by my astonishment at this miracle.  When I look back upon your activity in these last years, you appear superhuman to me; there is something very strange about this.  However, it is very natural that creating is our only joy, and alone makes life bearable to us.  We are what we are only while we create; all the other functions of life have no meaning for us, and are at bottom concessions to the vulgarity of ordinary human existence, which can give us no satisfaction.  All that I still desire in this world is a favourable mood and disposition for work, and I find it difficult enough to protect these from the attack of vulgarity.  It is the same thing with you.  But what astonishes me and appears worthy of envy is that you can create so much.