years longer,
all his efforts to get it staged failed, for various reasons. And when,
at last, Liszt gave it for the first time, on August 28, 1850, at
Weimar, whence it gradually made its way to other opera-houses, its
reception everywhere showed that it was very far from being considered a
"popular" work. The critics, especially, vied with one another in
abusing this same "Lohengrin," which at present is sung more frequently
than any other opera; and they continued to abuse it until about twenty
years ago. "An abyss of ennui," "void of all melody," "an insult to the
very essence of music," "a caricature of music," "algebraic harmonies,"
"no tangible ideas," "not a dozen bars of melody," "an opera without
music," "an incoherent mass of rubbish,"--are a few of the "critical"
opinions passed on this opera, which is now regarded in all countries as
a very wonderland of beautiful melodies and expressive harmonies.

The non-acceptance in Dresden of this glorious opera, concerning which
Wagner wrote, "It is the best thing I have done so far," was only one of
many trials and disappointments which daily harassed him. He was over
head and ears in debt, because, in his confidence in the immediate
success of his operas, he had had them printed at once, at his own
expense. The opera-houses were very slow in accepting them, and this
left him in a sad predicament. There were, moreover, enemies
everywhere,--ignorant, old-fashioned professionals, who objected to his
way of interpreting the masters (though it was afterwards admitted that
he was epoch-making as an interpreter of their deepest thoughts). All
this galled him; and, furthermore, no attention whatever was paid to his
pet plans for reforming the Dresden Opera, and theatrical matters
in general.

In the state of mind brought about by this condition of affairs, it
needed but a firebrand to start an explosion. This firebrand was
supplied by the revolutionary uprising of 1849. Now, although Wagner had
never really cared much for politics (to his friend Fischer he once
wrote: "I do not consider true art possible until politics cease to
exist"), he was foolish enough to believe that a general overturning of
affairs would benefit art-matters, too, and facilitate his operatic
reforms; so he became, as he himself admits, "a revolutionist in behalf
of the theatre." He actively assisted the insurgents, and the
consequence was that, when the rebellion failed, he had to leave Dresden
an