My Life, vol 2 | Page 7

only to favour this relationship, for each was
constantly providing surprises for the other; and as the divergencies
between us were radical, they often gave rise to most exhilarating and
instructive experiences. Sulzer was extraordinarily excitable and very
delicate in health. It was quite against his own original desire that he
had entered the service of the state, and in doing so he had sacrificed
his own wishes to a conscientious performance of duty in the extremest
sense of the word, and now, through his acquaintance with me, he was
drawn more deeply into the sphere of aesthetic enjoyment than he
regarded as justifiable. Probably he would have indulged less freely in
these excesses, had I taken my art a little less seriously. But as I
insisted upon attaching an importance to the artistic destiny of mankind
which far transcended the mere aims of citizenship, I sometimes
completely upset him. Yet, on the other hand, it was just this intense
earnestness which so strongly attracted him to me and my speculations.
This not only gave rise to pleasant conversation and calm discussion
between us, but also, owing to a fiery temper on both sides, sometimes
provoked violent explosions, so that, with trembling lips, he would
seize hat and stick and hurry away without a word of farewell. Such,
however, was the intrinsic worth of the man, that he was sure to turn up
again the next evening at the accustomed hour, when we both felt as
though nothing whatever had passed between us. But when certain
bodily ailments compelled him to remain indoors for many days, it was
difficult to gain access to him, for he was apt to become furious when
any one inquired about his health. On these occasions there was only
one way of putting him in a good temper, and that was to say that one
had called to ask a favour of him. Thereupon he was pleasantly
surprised, and would not only declare himself ready to oblige in any

way that was in his power, but would assume a really cheerful and
benevolent demeanour.
A remarkable contrast to him was presented by the musician Wilhelm
Baumgartner, a merry, jovial fellow, without any aptitude for
concentration, who had learned just enough about the piano to be able,
as teacher at so much an hour, to earn what he required for a living. He
had a taste for what was beautiful, provided it did not soar too high, and
possessed a true and loyal heart, full of a great respect for Sulzer, which
unfortunately could not cure him of a craving for the public-house.
Besides this man, there were two others who had also from the very
first formed part of our circle. Both of them were friends of the pair I
have already mentioned; their names were Hagenbuch, a worthy and
respectable deputy cantonal secretary; and Bernhard Spyri, a lawyer,
and at that time editor of the Eidgenossische Zeitung. The latter was a
singularly good-tempered man, but not overburdened with intellect, for
which reason Sulzer always treated him with special consideration.
Alexander Muller soon disappeared from our midst, as he became more
and more engrossed by domestic calamities, bodily infirmities, and the
mechanical drudgery of giving lessons by the hour. As for the musician
Abt, I had never felt particularly drawn towards him, in spite of his
Schwalben, and he too speedily left us to carve a brilliant career for
himself in Brunswick.
In the meantime, however, our Zurich circle was enriched by all kinds
of additions from without, mainly due to the political shipwrecks. On
my return, in January, 1850, I had already found Adolph Kolatschek, a
plain, though not unprepossessing-looking man, though he was a bit of
a bore. He imagined himself born to be an editor, and had founded a
German monthly magazine, which was to open a field for those who
had been outwardly conquered in the recent movements to continue
their fight in the inner realm of the spirit. I felt almost flattered at being
picked out by him as an author, and being informed that 'a power like
mine' ought not to be absent from a union of spiritual forces such as
was to be established by his enterprise. I had previously sent him from
Paris my treatise on Kunst und Klima; and he now gladly accepted
some fairly long extracts from my still unpublished Oper und Drama,
for which he moreover paid me a handsome fee. This man made an
indelible impression on my mind as the only instance I have met of a

really tactful editor. He once handed me the manuscript of a review on
my Kunstwerk der Zukunft, written by a certain Herr Palleske, to read,
saying that he would not print it without my express consent, though