Dearest Friend,
I had written to Weber asking him to answer me direct, but I have heard nothing from him up to the present. Only Liszt writes me that he proposes to send one of these days to Weber for the Illustrirte Zeitung rather a good-sized manuscript on Lohengrin, which he originally intended to publish as a separate pamphlet. To get clear of all this uncertainty, I enclose here a couple of lines to my brother-in-law A., likewise a publisher at Leipzig, asking him to confer with Weber, and in any case then to give you news. A. will in any case assist us with his advice, and — should nothing be arranged with Weber — name the other publishers to whom one could turn.
If A. asks you for the manuscript, merely send it to him, as he would have full power from me to do so. But first strike out a whole passage — you will find it just on the first page of the preface — from Der dieses Narrenhaus jetzt mit so wahnsinniger Emsigkeit, and so on, to über unsren Irrthum klar zu werden. I wrote this preface when I still thought of turning the whole into a series of musical newspaper articles; now, as an introduction to a somewhat large book, this tone may perhaps have a too snappy, perhaps paltry, effect on the reader. It would be terrible if the book should come to be looked upon simply as an attack on Meyerbeer. I wish I could withdraw still much of this kind. When I read it, the mockery never sounds venomous; but if others read it I may often seem to them a passionate, sour-minded individual, and this I would not appear to be, even to my enemies.
On this occasion I would give you a piece of advice: lay aside henceforth a certain taint of polemics. When necessary, one must strike heartily, for dear life, and with all the strength of which one is capable; but then there must be an end.
Constant bickering and taunting make a highly unfavourable impression on the spectator, whom after all one wishes to win over — namely, that of the incapacity of both opponents to fight. See, I am no longer capable of setting right even the grossest misunderstandings about my article on the Jews; if no one is found to undertake such correction whenever it is of importance — well, in this cause I have gained the victory over no one; or if the correction is not of importance, I should only spoil for myself the public avowal of victory. In your present literary works I have one thing to find fault with: you allow your own light to shine too little; my writings have somewhat estranged you from your own peculiar method. That which I perceive from a more general standpoint you are well qualified to look at from a more special standpoint. You have already done this exceedingly well, and you will certainly do it well again; only take care not to show yourself to your opponent in a state of dependence, which he cannot fail to perceive by the outer garment which, out of love to me, you too frequently hang around yourself. I have at last managed to see the Rheinische Musikzeitung. I do not care a bit for this paper; it is the old style of musical newspaper, which in its uselessness and unfruitfulness will last as long as our modern music lasts. But this paper is consistent: if any one wishes to edit a special musical paper, this represents the extreme liberal standpoint; if he goes a step beyond, he disowns our whole musical conditions as incapable of further development, and of what use is then the musical paper? Or he says yes to-day and no to-morrow merely for the sake of prolonging its existence, and thus becomes despicable. The editorship of the Rheinische Zeitung is either so inextricably mixed up with our musical doings that it maintains with an honourable conscience the standpoint which it takes up, or it is sufficiently intelligent and prudent to see that, in order to keep the paper going, such a standpoint must be taken up. Even in this somewhat Jesuitical case it extricates itself from the affair with a good grace, and anyhow in a better and more respectable manner than the other paper, for which I cannot find any one term of contempt strong enough to express my disgust. Stupidity, cowardice, and vulgarity will do, however, as a multiple epithet. Curiously enough, the Rheinische Zeitung was the only paper which gave an intelligent and well-intentioned notice about the performance of my Tannhäuser overture in Paris; the Rheinische Zeitung is, in fact, a musical paper of the day. I understand that you must now continue to write in a musical paper, but please only write good articles in it, such as you can write; and, for Heaven's sake, don't carry on any more warfare in this periodical!
How I feel now? Yes, if I could only describe it! The one thing I could now set to work at with an appearance of usefulness would be writing about art; and that is just what no one wants. You will see that only with great trouble can I find an editor; as to being paid, I can scarcely think of such a thing. Would it be better for me to set to work and compose another opera for myself? It's enough to make one die of laughing!
Consider again the matter of extracts from my manuscript for Brendel's paper. O, happy time in which I did not understand why I should ever look at a musical paper! How rich was I then, how beggarly poor am I now!
I think, dearest, there will soon be an end of me — soon altogether. If I trouble now about a publisher and things of that sort, I am guided purely by the instinct to earn money. If any one were to give me a little farm I might become a plain, simple man, and certainly not think any more of writing about art.
Many thanks for your last letter! Farewell, and greetings at home.
Your
R. W.
Source: Richard Wagner's Letters to His Dresden Friends, Theodor Uhlig, Wilhelm Fischer, and Ferdinand Heine, trans. J. S. Shedlock (Scribner & Welford, 1890), No. 23