in Paris, and to all my contempt for the life led by its
inhabitants. In the second I described the existence of a certain
Hermann Pfau, a strange good-for-nothing with whom, during my
early Leipzig days, I had become more intimately acquainted than
was desirable. This man had been wandering about Paris like a
vagrant ever since the beginning of the previous winter, and the
meagre income I derived from arrangements of La Favorita was
often partly consumed in helping this completely broken-down
fellow. So it was only fair that I should get back a few francs
of the money spent on him in Paris by turning his adventures to
some account in Lewald's newspapers.

When I came into contact with Leon Pillet, the manager of the
Opera, my literary work took yet another direction. After
numerous inquiries I eventually discovered that he had taken a
fancy to my draft of the Fliegender Hollander. He informed me of
this, and asked me to sell him the plot, as he was under contract
to supply various composers with subjects for operettas. I tried
to explain to Pillet, both verbally and in writing, that he could
hardly expect that the plot would be properly treated except by
myself, as this draft was in fact my own idea, and that it had
only come to his knowledge by my having submitted it to him. But
it was all to no purpose. He was obliged to admit quite frankly
that the expectations I had cherished as to the result of
Meyerbeer's recommendation to him would not come to anything. He
said there was no likelihood of my getting a commission for a
composition, even of a light opera, for the next seven years, as
his already existing contracts extended over that period. He
asked me to be sensible, and to sell him the draft for a small
amount, so that he might have the music written by an author to