with me, was anxious to act in accordance with his first wife’s wishes in this serious matter of his son’s future, so as to avoid any further disputes after the friction of the divorce had barely been allayed.  Later on I learned that these statements, which roused a strong feeling of resentment in me against Eduard von Bulow, were unfounded; but the despairing tone of Hans’s letter, clearly showing that any other career would be repugnant to him and would be a constant source of misery, seemed to be ample reason for my interference.  This was one of the occasions when my easily excited indignation roused me to activity.  I replied very fully, and eloquently pointed out to him the vital importance of this moment in his life.  The desperate tone of his letter justified me in telling him very plainly that this was not a case in which he could deal hastily with his views as to the future, but that it was a matter profoundly affecting his whole heart and soul.  I told him what I myself would do in his case, that is to say, if he really felt an overwhelming and irresistible impulse to become an artist, and would prefer to endure the greatest hardships and trials rather than be forced into a course he felt was a wrong one, he ought, in defiance of everything, to make up his mind to accept the helping hand I was holding out to him at once.  If, in spite of his father’s prohibition, he still wished to come to me, he ought not to hesitate, but should carry out his wishes immediately on the receipt of my letter.

Karl Ritter was pleased when I entrusted him with the duty of delivering the letter personally at Bulow’s country villa.  When he arrived he asked to see his friend at the door, and went for a stroll with him, during which he gave him my letter.  Thereupon Hans, who like Karl had no money, at once decided, in spite of storm and rain, to accompany Karl back to Zurich on foot.  So one day they turned up absolutely tired out, and came into my room looking like a couple of tramps, with visible signs about them of their mad expedition.  Karl beamed with joy over this feat, while young Bulow was quite overcome with emotion.

I at once realised that I had taken a very serious responsibility on my shoulders, yet I sympathised deeply with the overwrought youth, and my conduct towards him was guided by all that had occurred for a long time afterwards.

At first we had to console him, and stimulate his confidence by our cheerfulness.  His appointment was soon arranged.  He was to share Karl’s contract at the theatre, and enjoy the same rights; both were to receive a small salary, and I was to continue to act as surety for their capabilities.