egian
coast and the stories of the sailors who never doubled the existence
of the "Flying Dutchman," gave life and definite form to the legend.
He remained but a short time in London, seeing the city and its two
houses of Parliament, and then went to Boulogne-sur-Mer. He remained
there four weeks, for Meyerbeer was there taking sea baths, and his
Parisian introductions were of the highest importance. The composer of
the "Huguenots" immediately recognized the talent of the younger
artist, and particularly praised the text to "Rienzi," which Scribe
was soon to imitate for him in his weak production of "The Prophet."
At the same time he pointed out the obstacles to success in the great
city which it would be extremely difficult for one to overcome without
means or connections. Wagner however relied on his good star and
departed for that city which he conceived to be the only one that
could open the way to the stage of the world for a dramatic composer.
The result of the visit to Paris was an abundance of disappointments,
but it added largely to his experience, increased his strength, nay
more, even gave rise to his first great work.

Meyerbeer recommended him to the director of the Renaissance Theatre
and besides acquainted him with artists of note. An introduction to
the Grand Opera however was out of the question for one who was an
utter stranger. Through Heinrich Laube, then in Paris, he made the
acquaintance of Heine, who was much surprised that a young musician
with his wife and a large Newfoundland dog should come to Paris, where
everything, however meritorious, must conquer its position. Wagner
himself has described these experiences in Lewald's "Europa," under
the title of "Parisian Fatalities of Germans." His first object was
to win some immediate success and he accordingly offered to the above
named director the "Liebesverbot," which apparently was well suited to
French taste. Unfortunately this theatre went into bankruptcy, so all
his efforts were fruitless. He now sought to make himself known
through lyrics set to music and wrote several, such as Heine's
"Grenadiers," but a favorite amateur balladist, Loisa Puget, reigned
supreme in the Paris salons, and neither he nor Berlioz could obtain
a hearing. His means were constantly diminishing and a terrible
bitterness filled his soul against the splendid Paris salons and
theatre world, whose interior appeared so hollow.

It happened one day that he heard the Ninth