The warlike Wagner's arrival in Vienna in the spring of 1875 drew more hostile attention to the timid symphonist. Of course, it did him more harm than good. The music-dramatist's reiterated praise of Bruckner's work was like a signal for the Viennese authorities to redouble the cruelty of their method of torture. Dessoff, conductor of the Philharmonic, promised to perform the Wagner Symphony, invited Bruckner to several rehearsals, and suddenly (after two months of preparation) declared he could not find room for it on a program. Later the orchestra took hold of it again, but rejected it finally (only a single musician opposing the move) as "absolutely unplayable."

Just as the persecuted Wagner set to work on his Meistersinger, pouring his sufferings out through the lips of Hans Sachs, Bruckner plunged into the tragic depths of his Fifth. Only in the construction of his colossal symphonies was he able to play the hero against fate. Over two years in the process of composition the Tragic symphony was compelled to wait eighteen years for its first hearing. That was not to be in Vienna, nor was Bruckner ever to hear the work at all.

In 1876 Wagner invited him to the inaugural Ring performances at Bayreuth and the two giant musicians once more discussed the Wagner Symphony. Perhaps as a direct result of this conference Bruckner now set about simplifying the condemned score and again appealed to the Philharmonic for a hearing. The prompt refusal then given his request must have convinced even him that a relentless hostility due to Wagner's praise made his cause impossible so far as that organization was concerned. Into this spiritual state of almost total eclipse there suddenly broke a ray of light. Herbeck, old friend of sunnier days, conductor of the fine, though less-famed, orchestra of the Society of the Friends of Music, became so disgusted with the unjust persecution that he determined to brave the wrath of critics and musicians by espousing tile Bruckner cause. Hardly had he announced the first step of his campaign, a production of the tabu Wagner Symphony, when he died. had not, at this juncture, an influential government representative named Goellerich (father of the noted Bruckner biographer) stepped into the breach, the Third Symphony would have been taken off the Herbeck program and the unhappy composer, poisoned with a cup of misery worthy of a Job, would probably have gone mad.

The performance itself which took place December 16, 1877 was one of the saddest in the history of music. Since no conductor dared to wield the baton upon the occasion, Bruckner himself was compelled to direct the orchestra. Early in the course of the symphony. Director Hellmsberger, spokesman of the conservatory, burst out laughing. Promptly another "director" followed suit. Upon this the apish students joined in. Then, of course, the public began to giggle. Soon some people rose and left the hall, indignant that the cause of music had been offered so great an insult as the performance of a Bruckner work in Vienna, the sacred musical metropolis. When the symphony came to an end there were hardly ten people left in the parquet. The few faithful occupants of the "standing room," a handful of Bruckner-pupils, among them Gustav Mahler, rushed down to the heartbroken master, from whom even the musicians of the orchestra had fled, and attempted in vain to cheer him with consoling words. At this moment an angel approached, in the guise of the music publisher Rattig, described the symphony as wonderful, and declared himself ready to risk the expense of publishing it. Under such a black sky was the Wagner Symphony given to the world.

To return to the Viennese critics for whose Wagner-gobbling appetite it had been a gala evening, the director Hanslick (intending it, of course, only as a joke) for once told the absolute truth, namely, that he "could not understand the gigantic symphony." He said there had come to him, while listening, "a vision in which Beethoven's Ninth had Ventured to accost the Valkyr maidens, only to be crushed under their horses' feet." As a sarcastic climax he added that he "did not wish by his words to hurt the feelings of the composer, whom he really held in great esteem."

A little before this time, through the good graces of the previously mentioned Goellerich, the University of Vienna had announced! the creation of a "chair" of music and the inclusion of harmony land counterpoint in the regular curriculum. Despite the firm opposition of Hanslick, Bruckner, who had ten years before appealed to the faculty that some such step be taken in his behalf, was now appointed lecturer. From the opening address, April 30, 1876, which was attended by so great a number of students that the occasion might well be compared to the first of Schiller's lectures at Jena, the younger generation embraced the Bruckner cause enthusiastically. To the academic subjects taught by

Bruckner, with Goethe's words as motto: "Gray is every theory. Green alone life's golden tree," were added those glorious improvisations for which he was so noted and the inspiring message of which endeared him to the hearts of his "Gaudeamuses," as he lovingly called his students. The open enmity of Hanslick towards their beloved professor gradually assumed for them the proportions of a political issue and a life problem. In the years to come the Bruckner cause in Vienna was to attain such strength through the loyalty of these University students that the combined enmity of critics and musicians would have to bow before it in the dust. This was actually realized ten years later, when the Philharmonic was finally compelled, owing to the force of public opinion, to program the already world-famous Seventh Symphony (1886).

As the result of the frigid reception accorded the Wagner Symphony Bruckner spent the next two years (1878-80) in a radical revision of the instrumentation of the Second, Fourth, and Fifth symphonies, including the composition of a totally new movement, the now famous Hunting Scherzo, for the Fourth or Romantic. However, the changes he made in the scores are not of the nature of compromises between the artist and the world, for the themes of the symphonies remained unaltered, only unnecessary rhythmic and technical complications being abandoned.

To this interval also belongs the composition of the (Quintet for strings, Bruckner's sole contribution to chamber-music, but a work so deep and mighty that those who have heard it proclaim that in the whole range of chamber music only the last Beethoven string-quartets attain such spiritual heights. The Quintet was composed by the symphonist Bruckner and has the sweep and grandeur of his best symphonic creations.

The interval of rest from major composition saw him frequently attending the many colorful formal dances of Vienna. It seems psychologically consistent that one whose mind was always engaged in tragic inner conflicts should seek recreation in the halls of festivity and laughter. Bruckner had always been fond of dancing.

A severe attack of "nerves," doubtless due to overwork, drove him to seek relief in Switzerland during the summer of 1880. In August of that vacation period he visited the Passion Play at Oberammergau and fell head over heels in love with one of the "daughters of Jerusalem," the seventeen-year-old Marie Barti. He waited for her at the stage-door, obtained an introduction, and escorted her home. After spending that evening and most of the next day in the Barti family circle the arrived at a temporary understanding which left the love affair on a correspondential basis. There followed a lively exchange of letters between him and Marie, lasting a year, but the time came when the girl no longer answered him. Thus the now fifty-six-year-old lover found himself again refused entrance into the halls of matrimony. One is here involuntarily reminded of the love of the thirty-seven-year-old Beethoven for the fourteen-year-old Therese Malfatti, though nowadays we have ceased to gasp at such things. The solitary silent remnant of this romance of Bruckner's is a photograph of his bearing the inscription: "To my clearest friend, Marie Barti."