was demanded of Berlin (where they seemed in no hurry to use it), and at once put into rehearsal.  It was produced in Dresden on January 2, 1843, only about ten weeks after “Rienzi,”—­an almost unprecedented event in the life of an opera composer.  Wagner conducted the second opera himself (also “Rienzi,” after the first few performances), and gave so much satisfaction that he was shortly afterwards appointed to the position of royal conductor (which he held about six years).

So far, all seemed well.  But disappointments soon began to overshadow his seeming good luck.  The first production of the “Flying Dutchman” can hardly be called a success.  Wagner himself characterized the performance as being, in its main features, “a complete failure,” and the stage setting “incredibly awkward and wooden” (very different from what it is in Dresden to-day).  Mme. Schroeder-Devrient was an admirable “Senta,” and received enthusiastic applause; but the opera itself puzzled the audience rather than pleased it.

The music-lovers of Dresden had expected another opera a la Meyerbeer, like “Rienzi,” with its arias and duos, its din and its dances, its pomps and processions, its scenic and musical splendors.  Instead of that, they heard a work utterly unlike any opera ever before written; an opera without arias, duets, and dances, without any of the glitter that had theretofore entertained the public; an opera that simply related a legend in one breath, as it were,—­like a dramatic ballad; an opera that indulged in weird chromatic scales, and harsh but expressive harmonies, with an unprecedented license.  Here was the real Wagner, but even in this early and comparatively crude and simple phase, Wagner was too novel and revolutionary to be appreciated by his contemporaries; hence it is not to be wondered at that the “Flying Dutchman,” after four performances in Dresden, and a few in Cassel and Berlin, disappeared from the stage for ten years.

Although Wagner was now royal conductor, he did not succeed in securing a revival of this opera at Dresden.  His next work, “Tannhaeuser,” was nevertheless promptly accepted.  The score was completed on April 13, 1845, and six, months later (October 19), the first performance was given.  Wagner had thrown himself with all his soul into the composition of this score.  To a friend in Berlin he wrote:  “This opera must be good, or else I never shall be able to do anything worth while.”  The public at first seemed to agree with him.  Seven performances were given before the end of the season, and it was resumed the following year; yet Wagner came to the conclusion that he had written the opera “for a few intimate friends, but not for the public,” to cite his own words.  What the public had expected and desired was shown by its enthusiastic reception of “Rienzi,” and its colder treatment of the “Dutchman.”  But “Tannhaeuser” was like the second opera; in fact, even “more so.”  Wagner had outlived the time when he was willing to make concessions to current taste and fashion; thenceforth he went his own way, eager, indeed, for approval, but stubbornly refusing to win it by sacrificing his high art ideals.