opera. The names, often very famous ones, of these artists who
sang the same four operas for years could not compensate me for
the complete absence of sentiment which characterised their
performance, so unlike that of Schroder-Devrient, which I so
thoroughly enjoyed. I clearly saw that everything was on the down
grade, and yet I cherished no hope or desire to see this state of
decline superseded by a period of newer and fresher life. I
preferred the small theatres, where French talent was shown in
its true light; and yet, as the result of my own longings, I was
too intent upon finding points of relationship in them which
would excite my sympathy, for it to be possible for me to realise
those peculiar excellences in them which did not happen to
interest me at all. Besides, from the very beginning my own
troubles had proved so trying, and the consciousness of the
failure of my Paris schemes had become so cruelly apparent, that,
either out of indifference or annoyance, I declined all
invitations to the theatres. Again and again, much to Minna's
regret, I returned tickets for performances in which Rachel was
to appear at the Theatre Francais, and, in fact, saw that famous
theatre only once, when, some time later, I had to go there on
business for my Dresden patron, who wanted some more articles.

I adopted the most shameful means for filling the columns of the
Abendzeitung; I just strung together whatever I happened to hear
in the evening from Anders and Lehrs. But as they had no very
exciting adventures either, they simply told me all they had
picked up from papers and table-talk, and this I tried to render
with as much piquancy as possible in accordance with the
journalistic style created by Heine, which was all the rage at
the time. My one fear was lest old Hofrath Winkler should some