the daughter of a lawyer who had died leaving only a small fortune behind, lived with her mother, two aunts and a sister in a neat little house, while her brother, who was learning business in Paris, was a continual source of trouble to her.  Mathilde, with her practical common-sense, attended to the affairs of the whole family, apparently to every one’s complete satisfaction.  I was received among them with remarkable warmth whenever, in the pursuit of my business, I chanced to come to Mayence.  This happened about once a week, and on each occasion I was made to accept their hospitality.  But as Mathilde had a large circle of acquaintances, among others an old gentleman in Mayence who had been Schopenhauer’s only friend, I frequently met her in other people’s houses, as for instance at the Raffs in Wiesbaden.  From there she and her old friend Luise Wagner would often accompany me on my way home, and I would sometimes go with them further on the way to Mayence.

These meetings were full of agreeable impressions, to which frequent walks in the beautiful park of Biebrich Castle contributed.  The fair season of the year was now approaching, and I was once more seized with a desire for work.  As from the balcony of my flat, in a sunset of great splendour, I gazed upon the magnificent spectacle of ‘Golden’ Mayence, with the majestic Rhine pouring along its outskirts in a glory of light, the prelude to my Meistersinger again suddenly made its presence closely and distinctly felt in my soul.  Once before had I seen it rise before me out of a lake of sorrow, like some distant mirage.  I proceeded to write down the prelude exactly as it appears to-day in the score, that is, containing the clear outlines of the leading themes of the whole drama.  I proceeded at once to continue the composition, intending to allow the remaining scenes to follow in due succession.  As I was feeling in a good temper I thought I would like to pay a visit to the Duke of Nassau.  He was my neighbour, and I had so often met him on my lonely walks in the park, that I considered it polite to call on him.  Unfortunately there was not much to be got out of the interview which took place.  He was a very narrow-minded but amiable man, who excused himself for continuing to smoke his cigar in my presence because he could not get on without it, and he thereupon proceeded to describe to me his preference for Italian opera, which I was quite content he should retain.  But I had an ulterior motive in trying to prepossess him in my favour.  At the back of his park stood a tiny castle of ancient appearance on the borders of a lake.  It had grown into a sort of picturesque ruin, and at the time served as a studio for a sculptor.  I was filled with a bold desire to acquire this small, half-tumbledown building for the rest of my life; for I had already become a prey to alarming anxiety as to whether I should be able to hold out in the quarters I had so far tenanted, as the greater part of the storey, on which I occupied only two small rooms, had been let to a family for the approaching summer, and I heard that they would enter into possession, armed with a piano.  I was soon dissuaded, however, from further attempts to induce the Duke of Nassau to favour my views, for he told me that this little castle, on account of its damp situation, would be thoroughly unhealthy.