In order to communicate this insight to others, the sublime founders of religion have therefore to speak in images, such as are accessible to the common normal perception.  In this process much must be disfigured, although Buddha’s doctrine of the migration of souls expresses the truth with almost perfect precision.  The normal vulgarity of man and the license of general egoism further distort the image until it becomes a caricature.  And I pity the poet who undertakes to restore the original image from this caricature.  It seems to me that Dante, especially in the “Paradise,” has not succeeded in this; and in his explanation of the Divine natures he appears, to me at least, frequently like a childish Jesuit.  But perhaps you, dear friend, will succeed better, and as you are going to paint a tone picture I might almost predict your success, for music is essentially the artistic, original image of the world.  For the initiated no error is here possible.  Only about the “Paradise,” and especially about the choruses, I feel some friendly anxiety.  You will not expect me to add less important things to this important matter.

I shall soon write again; on the 26th I leave here, and shall therefore have endured to the end.  Farewell dear, dear Franz.

Your

R. W.

London, June 7th, 1855.

191.

Zurich, July 5th, 1855.

Dearest Franz,

Your late servant Hermann called on me today and told me that I should have a letter from you one of these days, that you and the Princess would come to Switzerland soon (?), and a thousand other things.

I am longing for direct news from you.  I have been back in Zurich since June 3Oth, after having conducted my last London concert on the 25th.  You have probably heard how charmingly Queen Victoria behaved to me.  She attended the seventh concert with Prince Albert, and as they wanted to hear something of mine I had the “Tannhauser” overture repeated, which helped me to a little external amende.  I really seem to have pleased the Queen.  In a conversation I had with her, by her desire, after the first part of the concert, she was so kind that I was really quite touched.  These two were the first people in England who dared to speak in my favour openly and undisguisedly, and if you consider that they had to deal with a political outlaw, charged with high treason and “wanted” by the police, you will think it natural that I am sincerely grateful to both.

At the last concert the public and the orchestra roused themselves to a demonstration against the London critics.  I had always been told that my audiences were very much in my favour, and of the orchestra I could see that it was always most willing to follow my intentions, as far as bad habits and want of time would allow.  But I soon saw that the public received impressions slowly and with difficulty, and was unable to distinguish