It is splendid that you have finished "Faust," and you may imagine that I am most anxious to see it; on the other hand, it is a pity that you will not show it me sooner. At the same time, I shall be glad to go through it WITH YOU at the piano, and to make its acquaintance in that way, seeing that my attendance at a good performance under your direction is for the present out of the question. The vivid idea which you know how to convey cannot even approximately be replaced by anything else; and I am more than ever intent upon getting the right impression from the first, for I greatly distrust acquaintances made by means of the abstract notes.
It is an absurd coincidence that just at this time I have been taken with a desire to remodel my old "Faust" overture. I have made an entirely new score, have rewritten the instrumentation throughout, have made many changes, and have given more expansion and importance to the middle portion (second motive). I shall give it in a few days at a concert here, under the title of "A 'Faust' Overture." The motto will be—
"Der Gott, der mir im Busen wohnt, Kann tief mein Innerstes erregen; Der uber allen meinen Kraften thront, Er kann nach aussen nichts bewegen; Und so ist mir das Dasein eine Last, Der Tod erwunscht, das Leben mir verhasst!"
but I shall not publish it in any case.
I was at first startled at your new year's article, but soon perceived that here again I am indebted to your ever-increasing sympathy. If, however, you represent my work as something colossal, you mistake, in my opinion, the standard of measurement; to me our artistic publicity, the spirit of our means of representation, etc., appear to be very small and miserable, while my work is just in accordance with ordinary human proportions, and appears gigantic only when we try to confine it to those unworthy conditions. When therefore we call our plan chimaeric and eccentric, we in reality flatter the actual worthlessness of our artistic publicity, and in a manner mark it as the just and rational measure. We should not give that wrong impression to people. Every one of your letters is worth to me gold, and more, but ANSWERS in the proper sense I scarcely ever receive from you, and you treat many of my questions as if they had never been asked. Instead of that you always give me something new; that is splendid, but an answer also would sometimes be useful.
Well, let me hear something good of you soon, and in London let me SEE you. I shall take my work with me, and hope to finish the instrumentation of the "Valkyrie" there.
Adieu, dearest Franz.
How are you? Best remembrances from my wife and many greetings from me to you all.
Your