conversation was carried on in French, and turned upon his experiences during his last professional journey in Hungary.  As I was unable to take part, on account of the language, I listened for some time, feeling heartily bored, until at last he asked me pleasantly what he could do for me.  He seemed unable to recall Laube’s recommendation, and all the answer I could give was that I desired to make his acquaintance.  To this he had evidently no objection, and informed me he would take care to have a ticket sent me for his great matinee, which was to take place shortly.  My sole attempt to introduce an artistic theme of conversation was a question as to whether he knew Lowe’s Erlkonig as well as Schubert’s.  His reply in the negative frustrated this somewhat awkward attempt, and I ended my visit by giving him my address.  Thither his secretary, Belloni, presently sent me, with a few polite words, a card of admission to a concert to be given entirely by the master himself in the Salle Erard.  I duly wended my way to the overcrowded hall, and beheld the platform on which the grand piano stood, closely beleaguered by the cream of Parisian female society, and witnessed their enthusiastic ovations of this virtuoso, who was at that time the wonder of the world.  Moreover, I heard several of his most brilliant pieces, such as ‘Variations on Robert le Diable,’ but carried away with me no real impression beyond that of being stunned.  This took place just at the time when I abandoned a path which had been contrary to my truer nature, and had led me astray, and on which I now emphatically turned my back in silent bitterness.  I was therefore in no fitting mood for a just appreciation of this prodigy, who at that time was shining in the blazing light of day, but from whom I had turned my face to the night.  I went to see Liszt no more.

As already mentioned, I had given Devrient a bare outline of this story, but she had noted it with particular attention, for I happened to have touched her weak point of professional jealousy.  As Liszt had also been commanded by the King of Prussia to appear at the grand state concert at Berlin, it so happened that the first time they met Liszt questioned her with great interest about the success of Rienzi.  She thereupon observed that the composer of that opera was an altogether unknown man, and proceeded with curious malice to taunt him with his apparent lack of penetration, as proved by the fact that the said composer, who now so keenly excited his interest, was the very same poor musician whom he had lately ‘turned away so contemptuously’ in Paris.  All this she told me with an air of triumph, which distressed me very much, and I at once set to work to correct the false impression conveyed by my former account.  As we were still debating this point in her room, we were startled by hearing from the next the famous bass part in the ‘Revenge’ air from Donna Anna, rapidly executed in octaves on the piano.  ’That’s Liszt himself,’