subject; and in this I was assisted by some stimulating monographs (found in the royal library), written by authors whose names have now escaped my memory, but which taught me in a very attractive manner a considerable amount about the old original kingdom of Germany.  Later on I published this fairly extensive essay with the title of Die Nibelungen, but in working it out I finally lost all inclination to elaborate the historical material for a real drama.

In direct connection with this I began to sketch a clear summary of the form which the old original Nibelungen myth had assumed in my mind in its immediate association with the mythological legend of the gods—­a form which, though full of detail, was yet much condensed in its leading features.  Thanks to this work, I was able to convert the chief part of the material itself into a musical drama.  It was only by degrees, however, and after long hesitation that I dared to enter more deeply into my plans for this work; for the thought of the practical realisation of such a work on our stage literally appalled me.  I must confess that it required all the despair which I then felt of ever having the chance of doing anything more for our theatre, to give me the necessary courage to begin upon this new work.  Until that time I simply allowed myself to drift, while I meditated listlessly upon the possibility of things pursuing their course further under the existing circumstances.  In regard to Lohengrin, I had got to that point when I hoped for nothing more than the best possible production of it at the Dresden theatre, and felt that I should have to be satisfied in all respects, and for all time, if I were able to achieve even that.  I had duly announced the completion of the score to Herr von Luttichau; but, in consideration of the unfavourable nature of my circumstances at the time, I had left it entirely to him to decide when my work should be produced.

Meanwhile the time arrived when the keeper of the Archives of the Royal Orchestra called to mind that it was just three hundred years since this royal institution had been founded, and that a jubilee would therefore have to be celebrated.  To this end a great concert festival was planned, the programme of which was to be made up of the compositions of all the Saxon orchestral conductors that had lived since the institution had been founded.  The whole body of musicians, with both their conductors at their head, were first to present their grateful homage to the King in Pillnitz; and on this occasion a musician was, for the first time, to be elevated to the rank of Knight of the Civil Order of Merit of Saxony.  This musician was my colleague Reissiger.  Until then he had been treated by the court, and by the manager himself, in the most scornful manner possible, but had, owing to his conspicuous loyalty at this critical time, especially to me, found exceptional favour in the eyes of our committees.  When he appeared before the public decorated with