The Brahms Gavotte was enthusiastically applauded, but Frau Schumann, having regard to the performance of the 'Carnaval' before her, refused the encore. At the close of the recital, however, she returned to the piano in response to continued demonstrations, and repeated the composition. Her performances were given on a pianoforte by Erard, whose instruments were preferred at that date by all the great pianists of Europe. A magnificent 'grand' was presented by the house to Frau Schumann at the close of her London season, and despatched to her residence in Dusseldorf. It continued to be her favourite instrument for private use until 1867, when she reappeared in England after an absence of ten years, and used a Broadwood pianoforte. On her departure a Broadwood concert-grand was sent to her house near Baden-Baden by Messrs. John Broadwood and Sons. Some years later, when the author was intimate at Frau Schumann's residence, the Broadwood pianoforte stood in the drawing-room, the Erard in the dining-room. On the former Frau Schumann and Brahms often played duets after afternoon coffee; on the latter Johannes--always 'Johannes' to his old friend--played one evening after supper several numbers of the third and fourth books of the Hungarian Dances, not yet published, not yet books, his eyes flashing fire the while.

Brahms gave up all idea of returning to Hamburg for the present. Duty and inclination alike prompted him to remain in Schumann's neighbourhood, and the fact of Dietrich's residence at Bonn gave him additional satisfaction in resolving to pass the summer on the Rhine. It was at this time that he made the personal acquaintance of the poet Claus Groth, who was staying at Bonn to be near Otto Jahn; and the musical festival of the year (May 11-13) marked the beginning of his intimacy with the great singer Julius Stockhausen, who, making his first appearance on the Rhine, was heard in the part of Elijah in Mendelssohn's oratorio, in 'Alexander's Feast,' in an aria by Boieldieu, and in songs by Schubert, Mendelssohn, and Schumann.

Stockhausen had been a pupil of Manuel Garcia in Paris and London, and was well known to the musical public and the private artistic circles of both cities before he became a celebrity in Austria and Germany.

'His delivery of opera and oratorio music,' says Sir George Grove[69]--'his favourite pieces from "Euryanthe," "Jean de Paris,"

"Le Chaperon Rouge," and "Le Philtre"; or the part of Elijah, or certain special airs of Bach--was superb in taste, feeling, and execution; but it was the Lieder of Schubert and Schumann that most peculiarly suited him, and these he delivered in a truly remarkable way. The rich beauty of the voice, the nobility of the style, the perfect phrasing, the intimate sympathy, not least, the intelligible way in which the words were given--in itself one of his greatest claims to distinction--all combined to make his singing of songs a wonderful event. Those who have heard him sing Schubert's "Nachtstuck," "Wanderer," "Memnon," or the "Harper's Songs," or Schumann's "Fruhlingsnacht" or "Fluthenreicher Ebro," or the "Lowenbraut," will corroborate all that has been said. But perhaps his highest achievement was the part of Dr. Marianus in the third part of Schumann's "Faust," in which his delivery of the "Drei Himmelskonigin" ("Hier ist die Aussicht frei"), with just as much of acting as the concert-room will admit, and no more, was one of the most touching and remarkable things ever witnessed.'

Cordial relations were so quickly established between Stockhausen and Brahms that before the close of the month they had given two concerts together--one on the 27th, in the 'yellow room of the casino' at Cologne; the other on the 29th, in the hall of the Lesegesellschaft at Bonn. Stockhausen's performances, accompanied in each instance by Brahms, created a furore on both occasions. Brahms' solos--consisting on the 27th of Bach's Chromatic Fantasia and Beethoven's C minor Variations, and on the 29th of Beethoven's E flat Variations, Clara Schumann's Romance, a Schubert Impromptu, and the great Bach Fugue in A minor, to be found in vol. iii. of the Leipzig Society's edition--were coldly received. This is not to be wondered at. During the half-century which has elapsed since these concerts took place musical taste has passed through more than one revolution; it is, however, questionable whether at any time within the interval a pianist, of whatever qualifications, not already accepted into the prime affections of the public, could have successfully courted its favour beside the attraction of a really great singer in full possession of his powers, whose selections included a number of the most fascinating lyrics of Schubert, Mendelssohn, and Schumann. One of the Cologne critics, at all events, was satisfied with the pianist. It is rather surprising to read, in the _Niederrheinische Musik Zeitung_, that Herr Johannes Brahms played his two solos on the 27th 'with such purity, clearness, musical ripeness, and artistic repose, that his performances gave true pleasure.'

Brahms' temperament was not really suited, however, to the career of a virtuoso, nor had the obscure circumstances of his youth fitted him for it. He generally felt too nervously self-conscious when before the public to have a chance of gaining its entire confidence, and was too dependent on his mood to be able to throw himself at all times completely out upon his audience and compel their sympathy. The achievement of striking and lasting success as a performer involves a concentration of the best energies of body and mind upon this career, whilst the attainment of real greatness as a composer means the devotion of a life to the end. No illustration of these truths could be more apt than the contrasted careers of Brahms and Joachim. Whatever Joachim's natural creative faculty may have been, his boundless success as an interpreter was fatal to its development. The divergence of the paths pursued by the two friends resulted not altogether, or perhaps chiefly, from variety of musical endowment, but largely from the radical differences in their characters and circumstances. From early childhood Joachim has never appeared on a platform without exciting, not only the admiration, but the personal love of his audience. His successes have been their delight. They have rejoiced to see him, to applaud him, recall him, shout at him. The scenes familiar to the memory of three generations of London concert-goers have been samples of the everyday incidents of his life in all countries and towns where he has appeared.

Why? It is impossible altogether to explain such phenomena, even by the word 'genius.' Joachim followed his destiny. His career is unparalleled in the history of musical executive art. It began when he was eight; it is not closed now that he is seventy-four. All possibility of his achieving greatness as a composer--notwithstanding that he has produced one or two great works--was excluded by the time he had reached the age of fourteen.

The mistress of Brahms' absorbing passion, on the other hand, was from first to last his creative art, to which all else remained secondary. He never swerved by a hair's-breadth from his devotion, but accepted poverty, disappointment, loneliness, and failure in the eyes of the world, with all the strong faith that was in him, for the sake of this, his true love. He was never drawn by inclination to his virtuoso career, to which he submitted only as a necessity, discarding it as soon as circumstances allowed. He was seldom able to disclose the infinite possibilities of his playing under circumstances in which he was not at ease; and though he possessed a great technique which he could easily have developed into something phenomenal, and which, as it was, enabled him to excite an audience now and again by sounding and dramatic performances of Bach's organ compositions and other imposing works, yet the more distinctive beauties of his style were too subtle for the appreciation of a mixed body of listeners. His imagination of effects of tone was, to quote Schumann's article, quite original, and this was even more strikingly displayed in later years, when he conducted one or other of his orchestral works. His playing even of such a trifle as Gluck's Gavotte in A, arranged for Frau Schumann in 1871, which the author more than once heard, was full of unsought graces that were the immediate reflection of his delicate spirit. His performance of this little piece, and his conception of many works of the great masters, together with his whole style of playing, differed _in toto_ from Frau Schumann's. The two artists admired each other's qualities. Frau Schumann courted Brahms'

criticisms, and has, on some occasions, quoted to the author his sayings as to the reading of certain of Beethoven's sonatas, declaring she felt them to be right. Nevertheless, her temperament would never have allowed her to carry out these suggestions in actual public performance, and she was better fitted by temperament than Brahms for the interpretation, to the large public, of the masterpieces of musical art.

The author has been carried by this digression, which is the result of her personal intercourse with these great musicians, to a date many years later than that reached by the narrative. Its insertion here may, however, be of advantage to the reader by preparing him to expect that Brahms' career as a pianist, though not without success, was attended by few brilliant triumphs.

On June 8, the forty-sixth anniversary of Schumann's birthday, Johannes again went to Endenich, accompanied on the walk from Bonn by Jahn, Dietrich, Groth, and Hermann Deiters, another notable acquaintance of this summer. He looked very serious on rejoining his companions, though he said that Schumann had recognised and seemed pleased to see him. The end was, indeed, not far off. The mists that had so long been gathering around the lofty spirit of the master continued to close him into ever-increasing darkness. Bad news attended Frau Schumann's return from England towards the middle of July, and on the 23rd of the month she was summoned by a telegraphic despatch to Endenich. Even now the longed-for interview had to be deferred. Fresh symptoms appeared before her arrival, and she was obliged to return to Dusseldorf to live through three more days of agonizing suspense. She returned to Bonn on the evening of the 26th, there to await the end, and at length, on Sunday morning, July 27th, passed with Johannes into the solemn chamber of death. Schumann was lying quietly with closed eyes as she entered, but opened them presently on the figure kneeling at his bedside, and it became evident after a few moments that he knew his wife. His power of speech was almost gone, but a look of recognition passed over his countenance. He received with satisfaction a few drops of wine with which she tenderly moistened his lips, and suddenly, with a last accession of strength, was able to place one of his arms round her.

Those faint looks of love, that last embrace, dwelt in Frau Schumann's memory as an ever-present solace through the forty years of her widowhood, and, in spite of her many sorrows, the radiance was never dimmed that had been shed over her spirit once and for all by the enchantment of an early ideal happiness.

Schumann lingered yet a day or two, growing weaker hour by hour as his wife and his young friend watched at his side. He passed quietly away at four o'clock on Tuesday afternoon, July 29; and Frau Schumann, returning from a short interval of repose at her hotel, accompanied by Brahms and Joachim, who had taken immediate train to Bonn on receiving a hopeless report, learned that her husband's sufferings were over for ever.

Two days more, and on Thursday, July 31, in the stillness of a balmy summer evening, the mortal remains of the master were laid to rest in the cemetery of Bonn. The funeral was arranged with touching simplicity.

A pleasant spot had been chosen by the city, some plantain-trees planted by the grave. The coffin, borne from Endenich by the choristers of the Concordia, was immediately followed by the three chief mourners--Brahms, who carried a laurel wreath, Joachim, and Dietrich. Next came the clergyman, Pastor Wiesemann, and the Mayor of Bonn, and at an appointed spot in the city a long string of friends and musicians joined the procession, which passed on foot through the streets accompanied by a band of brass instruments playing one and another of the most solemnly beautiful of the old German chorales. At the graveside Brahms stepped forward and placed the wife's wreath upon the coffin, bare of other floral decorations. A short address was delivered by Pastor Wiesemann, then came a sacred part-song by the choristers, a chorale, a few simple words spoken by Ferdinand Hiller, the last farewell of friends throwing earth upon the coffin, and all was over.[70]

On the anguish of the widow looking out despairingly to the future of her lonely life, who yet might not despair because of the little ones clinging to her side, on the steadfast loyalty of the affectionate friends in whose sympathy she had found, and continued to find, support, it is unnecessary to dwell; they are matter of history. Rather let the chapter be closed in silent remembrance of the departed master and of the group of his loved ones who lamented together in the sacred presence of an irreparable grief.

[61] 'Gesammelte Aufsatze uber Musik.'

[62] 'Aus meinem Leben.'

[63] _Die Musik_, first May number, 1903.

[64] In the author's possession.

[65] In the possession of Professor Julius Spengel.

[66] In the library of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde, Vienna.

[67] In the possession of Fraulein Marie Grimm.

[68] 'Aus meinem Leben.'

[69] Grove's 'Dictionary of Music and Musicians.'

[70] Chiefly taken from the account written at the time for the _Neue Zeitschrift_, by Ferdinand Hiller.

CHAPTER VIII 1856-1858

Joachim and Brahms in Dusseldorf--Grimm in Gottingen--Brahms' visit to Detmold--Carl von Meysenbug--Court Concertmeister Bargheer--Joachim and Liszt--Brahms' return to Detmold--Summer at Gottingen--Pianoforte Concerto in D minor and Orchestral Serenade in D major tried privately in Hanover.

Frau Schumann returned to Dusseldorf the day after the funeral, accompanied by Brahms and Joachim. There were certain things to be done, the performance of which she desired to entrust to the two young musicians who had been so near the master's heart. Together they set in order the papers left by the deceased composer, wrote necessary letters, and made plans for the immediate future. Joachim writes on August 2 to Liszt:

'Frau Schumann returned here yesterday; the presence of her children and of Brahms, whom Schumann loved like a son, comforts the noble lady, who appears to me, in her deep grief, a lofty example of God-given strength. I shall remain here for some days.'

Johannes had taken over some lessons which Frau Schumann had arranged to give, on her return from England, to Fraulein von Meysenbug, daughter of the late Minister and sister of the then Hofmarschall at the Court of Lippe-Detmold, and by so doing had added four people to the list of his friends: his pupil, her mother and sister--all settled for a few weeks in Dusseldorf--and her young nephew Carl, who came from Detmold to visit his relations.

'On the occasion of one of the lessons,' says Freiherr von Meysenbug,[71] 'I first saw and heard the almost boyish-looking, shy, and socially awkward young artist, who played to us Schubert's "Moment Musical" in F minor. His rendering of the piece made an indelible impression on me.'

The boy's admiration led later on to a fast alliance between Brahms and Carl. The ladies, on their part, became enthusiastic in their admiration of the young musician, and on the termination of the lessons, which could not long be continued on account of the sad circumstances of the moment, they invited him to stay with them in the spring at Detmold, with a view to his appearance at Court.

It was felt that the all-important necessaries for Frau Schumann were rest and good air. Since the crisis of her husband's malady in February, 1854, followed after a few months by the birth of her youngest son, she had enjoyed but little repose, and since the autumn of 1855 practically none. During November and December of that year she travelled, as we have seen, in Germany, giving concerts with Joachim in Leipzig, Berlin, Danzig, Berlin again, Rostock, and many other towns. At home for Christmas, she gave her first concert in Vienna on January 7, which was followed by five others, the last taking place on March 3. Travelling meanwhile, she combined her engagements in the Austrian capital with performances at Prague and other cities. Returning early in March by way of Leipzig, she was at home about a fortnight, and on April 7 started for England, to remain until the second week of July. We have seen to what she returned, and may well understand that she seemed to Joachim and Brahms 'an example of God-given strength.' It was now decided that she should go to Switzerland, and that Johannes' sister, whom she knew and liked, should accompany her. Elise Brahms was not artistic, and had little education. She had suffered all her life from bad headaches, and the constitutional tendency had been aggravated by her employment of plain sewing, carried on at home or in the houses of her clients. She was not pretty, her single personal attraction being an abundance of light-brown hair which grew to a great length, but she was simple, unselfish, and kind; she was the sister of Johannes; and Frau Schumann hoped that a respite from her confined life, in fine air and scenery, might do her good. The whole party--Frau Schumann with some of her children, Elise, and Johannes--set off together as soon as the necessary arrangements could be made, accompanied on the first part of their journey by Joachim, and proceeded by short stages to Gersau, on the Lake of Lucerne, where they settled down for several weeks. The time was spent in quiet walks and excursions, with some amount of music and a few meetings with close friends, and the return was made in the same leisurely way, with ten days' stay at Heidelberg. The holiday had its effect, and the beginning of October found the three musicians prepared to take up the ordinary duties of life. Frau Schumann began to practise for her concert-season, Joachim was at his post at Hanover, and Johannes about to return to his home in Hamburg, to apply himself to the occupations which had been interrupted by the events of the past six months. He appeared at Otten's concert of the 25th of the month with Beethoven's G major Concerto, and this time with immense success. 'The concerto was played with such fire and elan as to excite enthusiastic demonstration.' Some special outward circumstance or inner mood probably stirred him on this occasion. His performance was so powerful that it is still vividly remembered, with its effect upon the audience. His appearance on November 22 at a Philharmonic concert chiefly devoted to Schumann's works awakened no enthusiasm. He played the master's Pianoforte Concerto, and the indifference with which his performance was received was the more marked by contrast with the stormy applause that followed Joachim's playing of Schumann's Violin Fantasia and of Bach's Chaconne.

It was, however, a joy to Brahms to have his friend with him for a day or two. Kalbeck speaks[72] of a quartet which he had ready to show Joachim, and which was tried in private at one or other friendly house--Gradener's or Ave Lallement's (a well-known Hamburg musician).

Internal evidence points to the probability of its having been the Pianoforte Quartet in C minor, now known amongst its companion works as No. 3, or some of its movements. There is a great deal in this composition which is suggestive of Brahms' early period, and the scherzo is unmistakably founded on, though it is not identical with, the movement contributed by Johannes to the sonata of welcome written for Joachim in October, 1853, by Schumann, Dietrich, and Brahms.

The season 1856-57 was passed uneventfully by Brahms in the studies and other occupations already described, varied by occasional journeys. He may at this time be said to have had three if not four homes, in addition to that of his parents at Hamburg. In Dusseldorf, Hanover, Gottingen, and Bonn he was alike welcome. Grimm had married in the spring of 1856, choosing for his wife Fraulein Philippine Ritmuller, daughter of the head of the Gottingen pianoforte firm of that name.

There was a large room in Ritmuller's establishment available for private performances, and in it the idea originated which has enriched the world with Brahms' first pianoforte concerto.

One day after a performance of the symphony movements of 1854 for which Grimm cherished an enthusiastic affection, in their arrangement for two pianofortes, the young musician again urged upon the composer his frequently expressed opinion of the inadequacy of this form for the expression of the great ideas of the work. Johannes, however, had quite convinced himself that he was not yet ripe for the writing of a symphony, and it occurred to Grimm that they might be rearranged as a pianoforte concerto. This proposal was entertained by Brahms, who accepted the first and second movements as suitable in essentials for this form. The changes of structure involved in the plan, however, proved far from easy of successful accomplishment, and occupied much of the composer's time during two years. The movements were repeatedly sent to Hanover for Joachim's inspection, and returned with his suggestions; for his time, sympathy, musicianship, and knowledge of the orchestra, were placed, with unfailing generosity, at Brahms' disposal during all the years of ripening experience that led up to the composer's maturity.

The immediate fortunes of the work after it was at length completed will be related in due course.

The invitation of the von Meysenbugs having been duly renewed and accepted, the young musician paid a short visit to Detmold at Whitsuntide. Arriving at the little town one pleasant afternoon, the last stage of his journey having been made by post, he was met by his pupil and her nephew Carl, and brought by them to Frau von Meysenbug's house. The article of the Vienna _Neues Tagblatt_ already referred to, by Freiherr von Meysenbug, the 'Carl,' or 'Charles,' as he was generally called, of 1857, gives a pleasant account of the visit:

'I can still see the young fellow standing in silent embarrassment in the old Excellency's drawing-room, not quite knowing how to begin a conversation with the ladies, who were still practically strangers to him. Just then--it was about four o'clock--a princely carriage drove through the quiet street, in which were seated the three sisters of the reigning Prince on their way to dine with their brother at the palace. The ladies were accustomed to look up, as they passed, to the windows of my relations, and my aunt, seeing the carriage coming, said, "I will just nod to the Princess (Friederike) that Herr Brahms is come." Upon this Brahms broke silence with the words, "Do they live close by, then, like everyone else?" evidently thinking that the sign was to be given to an opposite window. This set the conversation going till I showed Brahms his room.'

The same evening Charles reappeared with his parents and Concertmeister Bargheer, of the Detmold court orchestra, a fine player, pupil of Spohr and Joachim, and already an acquaintance of Brahms. The Hofmarschall wished to hear the new-comer as a preliminary to his appearance at Court, and listened to most convincing performances of a thundering prelude and fugue of Bach and of Beethoven's C sharp minor Sonata, Op.

27. An orchestral court concert was immediately arranged, at which Johannes played his favourite Beethoven Concerto in G major and took part in a performance of Schubert's 'Forellen' Quintet with Concertmeister Bargheer, viola-player Schulze, violoncellist Julius Schmidt, all soloists of the court orchestra, and a bassist, member of the same body. His success was unequivocal, and he appeared with Bargheer at an assembly of musicians and their friends held after the concert at the chief confectioner's, in rollicking boyish spirits.

Capellmeister Kiel, on the other hand, who looked rather askance at a probable future favourite at Court, assumed airs of even unusual importance. He was at present, he said, setting one of the Psalms as a chorus; he often composed Biblical texts, but was sometimes puzzled by the Scriptural expressions. For instance, 'To the chief musician on the Gittith.' 'Pray, can you inform me what a Gittith was?' solemnly to the young hero of the evening. 'Probably a pretty Jewish girl,' returned Brahms, with a serious air--an answer which procured him a suspicious look over the spectacles of the old musician, and enraptured Charles, who, supposed by his parents to be in bed, had found means of his own to join the party. The entertainment having been prolonged until dawn, the more ardent spirits of the gathering proposed a walk to a neighbouring height to see the sun rise, and Brahms and Charles strode off together, leading the way. Their enthusiasm survived that of their companions, who gradually dropped off; and overcome by weariness as they reached the beginning of the last steep climb, they turned into the garden of a restaurant hard by, where Charles dropped on to the corner seat of an arbour bench, and Brahms, stretching himself out at full length with his head on his companion's knee, immediately went soundly to sleep.

'Just as I, too, was giving way to fatigue,' continues Freiherr von Meysenbug, 'a fine brown spaniel came sniffing at Brahms' face, and he suddenly jumped up, roused by the dog's cold nose. Meanwhile the house had awakened, we drank some hastily-prepared coffee, satisfied our healthy young appetites with delicious country black bread and golden-yellow butter, and trotted back to the little town. We both presented rather a questionable appearance in the streets, which were already astir, especially so the small Brahms in dress-coat, crumpled and disarranged white necktie, and crush-hat on one side. Paying a passing visit to the faithless Bargheer, whom we disturbed in his morning slumbers, we next set out for my grandmother's dwelling. There--oh, horror!--we suddenly came upon my aunt setting out for her morning walk. A distant look of righteous indignation travelled up and down the two night-enthusiasts, for Brahms' attire betrayed but too clearly that he had not been back since the previous evening. A stormy atmosphere prevailed during the day in the house of the hospitable ladies, who were not only unused to visits from men, but could never have imagined that the ideal artist would commit himself to such extravagances. I was severely censured by grandmother and aunts as the harebrained youth who had led the honoured guest astray. Brahms left the next day, not having been very warmly pressed to prolong his visit! He had, however, given such satisfaction in high quarters that his return in the autumn for a long stay in Detmold was definitely arranged. He was to give lessons to the Princess, play at Court, and conduct an amateur choral society, which, by invitation of the Prince, held its weekly meetings at the castle, and to which His Serene Highness, together with his brothers and sisters, belonged as regular members.'

Brahms, who could now look forward to the autumn without anxiety as to his finances, and who appreciated in anticipation the advantages he would derive as a composer from his position as conductor of a choral society and from constant association with a standing orchestra, met Frau Schumann on her return from England, where she had again passed the London season, in happy mood. Any regret he may have felt at resigning his freedom of action for a few months by a binding engagement was mitigated by the fact that his association with Dusseldorf must in any case shortly be severed. Frau Schumann had made up her mind that she would best serve her own happiness and the interests of her family by settling near her mother in Berlin, and was to take up her residence there in September, in readiness for the concert season and for the more advantageous opportunity of working as a teacher in the Prussian capital, by which she hoped to supplement her income. Born September 13, 1819, the great pianist, now not quite thirty-eight, was in the zenith of her powers, and, with the probability of a long career before her, it is not surprising that she should have resolved to begin a new chapter of life away from the town that was chiefly associated in her mind with painful recollections. A short summer vacation was passed by her on the Rhine in the more or less constant society of Brahms, Joachim, and Grimm, and a memorial of a few specially pleasant days spent at St.

Goarshausen is in existence in the shape of a copy, in her handwriting, of Brahms' Variations, Op. 21, No. 2. On the outside page is written:

'Ungarische Variationen von Johannes. Herrn Julius Otto Grimm, zur Erinnerung an die Tage in St. Goarshausen. August, 1857. Clara Schumann.'[73]

It was at this moment that Joachim resolved on a step which contributed not a little to inflame the party feeling animating the younger disciples of the New-German school. That they had felt increasingly aggrieved by the position taken up by him since the crisis of Schumann's illness, by his thoroughgoing association of his name and influence with the art of the master and his wife, by his intimacy with Brahms, and by his passive attitude towards Liszt's Symphonic Poems, may be read in letters of the period. Bulow, whose correspondence up to the middle of 1854 contains repeated affectionate references to Joachim, to whom he was immensely attached, wrote to Liszt in reference to the numerous concert journeys of 1855 undertaken with Frau Schumann:

'Joachim and the statue of which he is making himself the pedestal are not coming here till the beginning of next month. I am afraid we shall have difficulty in recognising each other, for we are at work in completely opposite directions.'

Perhaps their secret conviction of Joachim's artistic sincerity added to the disappointment of the Weimarites, which undoubtedly increased during the two following years, though his dislike of the Symphonic Poems was only to be guessed by his silence about them. On the publication of the works in 1857, however, with a somewhat pretentious preface, the embarrassment he felt from the consciousness that he would be unable to live up to the desires of his quondam associates, stimulated beyond a doubt by the sympathy of Johannes, who fully shared his sentiments, induced him to pen a letter to Liszt in which he made full confession of his apostasy. The intense pain which the writing of it caused him, attached as he was to everything about Liszt excepting his compositions, may be read in every line of the epistle, which is dated August 27, 1857.