What embryonic works Wagner left is not known. He had written an extensive autobiography, but his family has not yet seen fit to publish it. Probably it will not see the light till Cosima is laid beside him in the garden of Wahnfried. The rumour that he left sketches for a drama on a Buddhistic subject rests on slight foundation. The materials for this drama, "The Victors," were absorbed in the plan of "Parsifal." He left some minor prose writings which are included in the ten volumes of his works and which may be found by the reader of English in the last volume of Mr. Ellis's translation. Gross, the Bayreuth banker, guaranteed the "Parsifal" performances of 1883, and superintended the settlement of the dead man's financial affairs. The consolidation of all the Wagner societies continued the work of supporting the festivals till their aid was no longer needed. In later years the receipts from the festivals and the royalties from the numerous performances of Wagner's works have enabled his family to live in luxury. Siegfried Wagner has become a musician and a composer. He shows no evidence of inheriting his father's genius, but he works assiduously and with effect in preparing performances at Bayreuth, which, in spite of many changes, continues to be the Mecca of all worshippers of Wagner's genius.

[CHAPTER XV]
THE CHARACTER OF THE MAN

“Close up his eyes and draw the curtains close,
And let us all to meditation.”—Henry VI.

"The noble and kindly man as his friends knew him, and the aggressive critic and reformer addressing the public, were as two distinct individuals." These words of Edward Dannreuther are the explanation of the many contradictory reports as to the personality of Wagner. Those to whom he opened his inner self, to whom he addressed his feelings and his hopes, who, in a word, understood him as both man and artist, were united in praise of his personality. Liszt, Praeger, Uhlig, Roeckel, Fischer, Von Bülow, Judith Gautier, Baudelaire, Frau Wille—all the company of Wagner's friends and helpers loved his nature and found in him none of that arrogance, that intolerance, that insufferable conceit, which the unsympathetic outer world condemned. With his friends, who understood the purpose of his life and the aims of his ambition, he was generally in a state of spiritual relaxation, and was simply himself. With those who failed to understand him, and with all those whom he recognised as enemies of his artistic ideas, he never relaxed the spirit of determined opposition to indolent and slothful conceptions of life and art; and with them he was consequently always in a mood of hostility. To such he was rude, discourteous, and intolerant. His nature was irritable, and even his friends had to endure curt and hasty speech at times. To his enemies he was never polite, except occasionally in written communication. He was not a politic man, for he was too nervous in habit and too impulsive in utterance. He possessed the gentle art of making enemies as few other men could, yet he was highly successful in gaining friends, and those whom he got he kept. His early Dresden friends were always his friends. The Zurich coterie adored him to the end. Those who were intimately associated with him in Bayreuth loved and reverenced him. Muncker, the burgomaster of Bayreuth, whose book was translated into curious English by another German,[29] could write thus of him:

"With passionate warmth he was beloved by numerous friends who for a lengthy space of time could not grasp the idea of his death. In a full measure he deserved this love. He was a man as good as he was great. In his nature height of mind, depth of feeling, and childlike amiability were blended. The energetic strength of his will was paired with heartfelt mildness; the susceptibility of his mood, attributable to his many adversities and to his heart trouble, with an unfailing and sincere desire for reconciliation; the seriousness of his mind, which in social intercourse involuntarily mastered all, with an inexhaustible love for jest and humour. He loved and was mindful for every creature, man or animal, that needed help or sympathy. Courageous truthfulness was the foundation of his character. Therefore he was simple and natural in his demeanour and an outspoken enemy of all bombast. He was proud, but modest in spite of his consciousness of what he desired, knew, and accomplished. As his memory retained alive what long already was past, so he thankfully never forgot the good that others had done him, and faithfully clung to his friends, even if time and space separated them from him. Himself clear in his thoughts and intentions, he demanded the same clearness in those who wished to associate with him."

The testimony of others who knew Wagner longer and more intimately than Muncker is in a similar vein. It is difficult in the face of such evidence to accept the assertions of those contemporaries who saw in him only the narrowest and most selfish egotism. That he had serious faults and many foibles goes without saying. That he was an agreeable companion to any one not absorbed in his artistic ideas cannot be believed. Geniuses, self-centred as they must be, devoured day and night by passionate yearning for the attainment of ideal ends, are not often pleasant acquaintances. Wagner did not differ from other great men. People who were uncongenial to him have said that he was invariably rude and overbearing. Edward Dannreuther, who was his friend, says: "He had no pronounced manners in the sense of anything that can be taught or acquired by imitation. Always unconventional, his demeanour showed great refinement. His habits in private life are best described as those of a gentleman. He liked domestic comforts, had an artist's fondness for rich color, harmonious decoration, out-of-the-way furniture, well-bound books and music, etc."

And here we come upon one of the traits of this singular man, which has properly given rise to the largest amount of derogatory comment. He certainly had luxurious tastes, and he never resisted the temptation to gratify them even when he could not afford to do so. He loved fine surroundings. He was fond of rich garments, especially for indoor wear during his working hours. In later years, when his worldly position had improved somewhat, he employed an expensive Viennese dressmaker to make the silken robes which he wore in the house. He sent her the most elaborate designs for his dressing-gowns, which he seems to have planned with fastidious care. He paid her absurd prices for his robes. This was only one form of Wagner's extravagance. He wore silk underwear at all times, and Praeger endeavours to show that he was forced to do this in order to diminish as far as possible the irritability of his skin caused by the erysipelas, of which he was a lifelong victim. Wagner himself realised that his habits were luxurious, but he held that luxury was a necessity to him. He knew that he would be blamed for taking this position, and in a letter of 1854 to Liszt he wrote:

"How can I expect a Philistine to comprehend the transcendent part of my nature, which in the conditions of my life impelled me to satisfy an immense inner desire by such external means as must to him appear dangerous and certainly unsympathetic? No one knows the needs of people like us. I am myself frequently surprised at considering so many 'useless' things indispensable." Later in the same year he wrote a letter in which he shows plainly how his craving for luxurious surroundings as an aid to work affected his financial affairs. He said: