I have only too many opportunities of experiencing what you so justly say of the troubles and inconveniences which arise to us from intercourse with heterogeneous persons, although I may boast of possessing a thicker and more impenetrable skin, and a much larger portion of patience, than you.

For today I must not tax your patience any more by gossip of this kind.  In a few weeks we shall communicate without the aid of ink and paper, which is the real and wholesome thing for us.

Perhaps the Princess will accompany me to Zurich this time.

Your

F. L.

219.

Mornex, near Geneva, July 2Oth, 1856.

You may easily imagine, dearest Franz, how delighted I was by your letter.  Sometimes I grow anxious about you when I do not see you or have proper news from you for such a long time; I always think then that you care for me no longer.  I shall not write to you anything rational now, for your letter can be answered only by word of mouth.  God knows, I castigate my flesh by this cure chiefly in order to be quite well when we meet at last.  As regards my health, I could not have done better than place myself under the immediate guidance and supervision of an excellent French physician, Dr. Vaillant, who conducts a hydropathic establishment here.  I conquered my first aversion to the course when I recognized the valour of this Parisian Vaillant.  I go thoroughly to work in using this new and careful treatment, and feel sure of being completely cured of my ailment, which, after all, was caused by nervousness.  But it is more than possible that I shall be detained by it till the end of August, and I should therefore prefer, after all, if you could come about the middle of September.  This also seems to me more likely, because I cannot believe that you will give up Gran altogether.  I expect then to see you crowned with glory on your return from the land of your fathers.

Your Symphonic Poems are now quite familiar to me; they are the only music which occupies me at present, for during my cure I must not think of doing any work.  I read one or other of the scores every day, just as I might read a poem, fluently and without stopping.  I feel every time as if I had dived into a deep crystal flood, to be there quite by myself, leaving all the world behind me, and living for an hour my real life.  Refreshed and strengthened, I rise again to long for your presence.  Yes, friend, you can do it, you can do it!

Well, not much can be said about it; the noblest expressions might easily seem a little trivial in such a connection.  Enough, you will soon be here, and bring me my Dante.  This is a beautiful, glorious lookout; I thank you.

I sent you yesterday a parcel containing the original scores of “Rhinegold” and the “Valkyrie.”  Their fate will probably be a peculiar one.  Let me explain briefly:—­