most difficult combinations, not a slip of the
pen occurs. In the entire score of 'Tannhaeuser,' which Wagner wrote
out himself from beginning to end in chemical ink, not one correction
is to be found. One note followed the other with easy rapidity. It was
his habit to write the musical sketch in pencil--in Baireuth,
music-paper was to be found in every corner of 'Wahnfried,' on which
while wandering about the house during sleepless nights, musing and
planning, he made brief jottings, often merely a new idea in
instrumentation. The rest was in his head; the vocal parts were added
to the score without hesitation, and never needed correction. For the
orchestra he employed three staves, one of which was reserved for
special notes, as, for instance, when a particular instrument was to
enter. From these sketches the vocal parts could be written out
immediately, although the instrumentation was by no means finished.
Such sketches were carefully collected by Frau Cosima, who tried for a
time to fix the notes permanently by drawing the pen through them.
This task was, however, soon abandoned. In its stead she grasped the
idea of making a collection of Wagner's manuscripts, to be deposited
in 'Wahnfried.' For many years she has conducted an extended
correspondence for the purpose of obtaining, for love or money, the
scattered treasures, and has, in a great measure--principally through
the use of the latter persuasive--succeeded.

"Wagner had written his memoirs, which are not only finished, but
already printed. The entire edition consists of _only three copies_,
one of which was in the possession of the author, the second an
heirloom of Seigfried's, and the third in the hands of Franz Liszt.
This autobiography fills four volumes, and was printed at Basel, every
proof-sheet being jealously destroyed, so that there are actually but
three copies in existence. To the nine volumes of his works already
published (Leipzig, E. W. Fritzsch, 1871-'73) will be added a tenth,
containing brief essays and sketches of a philosophical character, and
(it is to be hoped) the four volumes of the autobiography."

After a life of strife such as few men have to encounter; of hatred
more intense and love more devoted than usually falls to the fate of
humanity; of restless energy, indomitable courage, passionate devotion
to the loftiest standards of art and unquestioning allegiance to the
"God that dwelt within his breast," he rests quietly under the