find no better means of attracting audiences to his concerts than the daily announcement, in enormous letters, of the Overture to Tannhauser.  Pasdeloup also frequently produced some of my pieces by way of showing his sentiments.  And lastly, Countess Lowenthal, the wife of the Austrian military plenipotentiary, gave a great matinee, at which Mme. Viardot sang various items from Tannhauser, for which she received five hundred francs.

By some singular coincidence people managed to confound my fate with that of a certain M. de la Vaquerie, who had also made a dismal failure with a drama, Les Funerailles de l’Honeur.  His friends gave a banquet, to which I was invited, and we were both enthusiastically acclaimed.  Fiery speeches were made about the encanaillemenl of the public, containing references to politics, which were easily explained by the fact that my partner in the festivity was related to Victor Hugo.  Unfortunately particular supporters had provided a small piano, on which I was literally compelled to play favourite passages from Tannhauser.  Whereupon the evening became a festival in my honour alone.

But a much more important result than these was that people began to recognise the reality of my popularity, and began to plan yet greater undertakings.  The manager of the Theatre Lyrique sought everywhere for a tenor suitable for Tannhauser, and only his inability to find one compelled him to renounce his intention of producing my opera at once.  M. de Beaumont, the manager of the Opera Comique, who was on the verge of bankruptcy, hoped to save himself with Tannhauser, with which intention he approached me with the most urgent proposals.  True, he hoped at the same time to enlist Princess Metternich’s intervention on his behalf with the Emperor, who was to help him out of his embarrassments.  He reproached me with coldness when I failed to fall in with his glowing dreams, in which I could find no pleasure.  But I was interested to learn that Roger, who now had a post at the Opera Comique, had included part of the last act of Tannhauser in the programme of a performance given for his own benefit, whereby he drew down upon his head the fury of the more influential press, but won a good reception from the public.  Schemes now began to multiply.  A. M. Chabrol, whose journalistic name was Lorbach, visited me on behalf of a company, whose director was an enormously wealthy man, with a plan for founding a Theatre Wagner, of which I refused to hear anything until it could secure an experienced man of first-class reputation as manager.  Eventually M. Perrin was selected for the post.  This man had lived for years in the firm conviction that he would be some day appointed manager of the Grand Opera, and thought, therefore, that he ought not to compromise himself.  It is true, he ascribed the failure of Tannhauser entirely to Royer’s incapacity, who ought to have made it his business to win over the press to his side.  Nevertheless he was strongly