he first to
fully open. By it, Wagner's soul has ever kept its warmth and spirit.
Who that was present does not think with joyous emotion of those
Munich May-days of 1868?

His pamphlet, "German Art and German Politics," had directed the
attention of the narrower circle of Wagner's friends at least
to the great fact that the artificial French civilization which had
prevailed during the last generation could be banished by a real
intellectual culture, and that in this work the highest form of art,
the stage-festival-play, would take a prominent and important part. A
masterly performance of Lohengrin in the spring of 1868, in honor of
the Crown-Prince of Prussia, was a striking illustration of this,
especially to Munich circles. It may also have influenced the mood of
the performers in whose hands the ultimate realization of an object
after all rests. "Even in after years Wagner confessed he had never
felt greater satisfaction in his experiences with an opera company
than at the first representation of the 'Meistersinger.'" The
performers also speak of the persuasive grace and the fresh, animating
cheerfulness with which the master, an example for all in his restless
activity, moved among them and gave to each individual his constant
directions. This remark of his biographer tells everything.

The rehearsals were this time even more artistically satisfactory to
all the participants than those of "Tristan." This art-work was easier
of comprehension owing to its more familiar subject and natural tone.
At the director's desk stood Buelow--"a fine head with clear cut
features, bold arched forehead and large eyes." Opposite to him on the
stage stood Wagner, likewise a very active form of medium height. "All
his features bear the impress of an unsubdued will which underlies his
whole nature," says a Frenchman. "It shows itself everywhere--in the
broad and prominent forehead, in the excessive curve of the strong
chin, in the thin and compressed lips, up to the strong eyebrows,
which disclose the long excitements of a life of suffering; it is the
man of battle, whom we know by his life, the man of thought, who,
never content with the past, looks constantly to the future." Closely
attending, he accompanied every tone with a fitting gesture for the
performer. Only when Mallinger sang the role of the goldsmith's little
daughter, Eva, he paused and listened approvingly with a smiling face.
It was clear that, like Prometheus among h