my music which afforded him the best guidance to a comprehension of the poem itself.  This reply strongly attracted me to the man, and from that time I found great pleasure in keeping up an active correspondence with him.  For this reason, when I brought out a translation of my operatic poems, I felt that its very detailed preface could not be dedicated to any worthier man.  As he was not able to play the scores of my operas himself, he had them performed for him by Saint-Saens, whom he apparently patronised.  I thus learned to appreciate the skill and talent of this young musician, which was simply amazing.  With an unparalleled sureness and rapidity of glance with regard to even the most complicated orchestral score, this young man combined a not less marvellous memory.  He was not only able to play my scores, including Tristan, by heart, but could also reproduce their several parts, whether they were leading or minor themes.  And this he did with such precision that one might easily have thought that he had the actual music before his eyes.  I afterwards learned that this stupendous receptivity for all the technical material of a work was not accompanied by any corresponding intensity of productive power; so that when he tried to set up as a composer I quite lost sight of him in the course of time.

I now had to enter into closer communication with the manager of the Opera House, M. Royer, with regard to the production of Tannhauser, which he had been commissioned to prepare.  Two months passed before I was able to make up my mind whether to say yes or no to the business.  At no single interview did this man fail to press for the introduction of a ballet into the second act.  I might bewilder him, but with all the eloquence at my command I could never convince him on the point.  At last, however, I could no longer refuse to consider the advisability of preparing a suitable translation of the poem.

Arrangements for this work had so far progressed very slowly.  As I have already said, I had found M. de Charnal altogether incompetent, Roger had permanently disappeared from my sight, and Gasperini showed no real desire for the work.  At last a certain Herr Lindau came to see me, who protested that with the aid of young Edmond Roche he could produce a faithful translation of Tannhauser.  This man Lindau was a native of Magdeburg, who had fled to escape the Prussian military service.  He had first been introduced to me by Giacomelli on an occasion when the French singer engaged by him to sing ‘L’Etoile du Soir’ at one of my concerts had disappointed us, and he had recommended Lindau as a very efficient substitute.  This man promptly declared his readiness to undertake this song, with which he was quite familiar, without any rehearsal, an offer which led me to regard him as a genius sent down from heaven on purpose for me.  Nothing could, therefore, equal my amazement at the unbounded impudence of the man; for on the evening of the concert he executed his task with the