The Palatinate Academy of Science, founded in 1763, encouraged historical and scientific research; collections of pictures and engravings, and an exhibition of plaster casts from the antique—at that time the only, and much-thought-of collection of the kind in Germany 2 —served, in connection with an academy, to encourage the formative arts; and a German society, founded in Mannheim by the Elector in 1775, proved the desire of its members to take their share in the new impulse which German literature had then received. 3

Klopstock's presence ART IN THE PALATINATE. in this year had not been without its influence; not content with native authors, such as Gemmingen, Klein, Dalberg, the painter MÜller, the Elector sought, but in vain, to attract acknowledged celebrities, such as Lessing 4 and Wieland. 5 His zealous co-operation was given to the plan of founding a German drama in the place of the usual French one; 6 the national theatre was built, 7 and efforts were made to retain Lessing as dramatist and Eckhoff as actor. 8 When this failed, the engagement of Marchand secured them at least a first-rate actor. 9

But music was incontestably the peculiar province of Mannhein, the "paradise of musicians." 10 Here too, patriotic MANNHEIM. feeling was supreme. 11 Original German operas took the place of the grand Italian opera, with its appendage of translated comic opera, generally borrowed from the French. 12

The performances of the Seiler company of actors, which had come to Weimar in the autumn of 1771 in the place of the Koch company, suggested to Wieland the idea of a grand, serious German opera in addition to the operettas which had met with so much success. 13 His "Alcestis" 14 was intended as an important step in this direction, as is proved by his "Letters on the German opera of 'Alcestis,'" 15 which, by their comparison of himself with Euripides, called forth Goethe's burlesque. His opera met with ready acknowledgment, but at the same time with severe and deserved blame. 16 It was thought to be too evidently fashioned after Metastasio's pattern, both in plan and treatment; and to be wanting in dramatic interest, true passion, and lively characteristic; the public found the opera tedious and trivial, and took just umbrage at the conception of Hercules as a virtuous humdrum citizen. Wieland found in Schweitzer an ideal composer, who identified himself with the poet, who could be silent when the poet wished to speak alone, but who hastened to aid him at need with all the resources of musical art; a composer, too, who thought more of producing a true impression on the mind of his hearers, than of flattering their ears, inciting their curiosity or even adhering too closely to the mechanical rules of his art. Wieland was not content with placing Schweitzer on a level with the best Italian composers; in a letter to Klein 17 he speaks of Gluck's "Alceste" as a divine work, but does not hesitate to declare Schweitzer's composition to be the best that had SCHWEITZER'S "ALCESTE." ever been heard of the kind. Schweitzer's music 18 was in fact much applauded, and he was judged to have accomplished more than the poet. 19 His efforts after a true and forcible musical expression of emotion, and after originality, are worthy of all praise; and phrases here and there, particularly in the accompanied recitative, are of charming effect, while the orchestra is carefully treated, and not at all after the usual manner of Italian opera. On the other hand he has been justly blamed for his slavish adherence to the old form of the aria, with da capo, middle passage, bravura passages, and ritomello; he is unequal, too, and his effects are all those of detail. What is wanting is genius, original power of creation, which forms details into one great whole, and produces something altogether new and complete. This was felt by Zelter 20 and by Mozart, who wrote to his father that the best part of Schweitzer's melancholy "Alceste" (besides the beginnings, middles and endings of some of the songs) was the beginning of the recitative, "O Jugendzeit," and the worst (together with the greater part of the opera) was the overture. This consists of two movements, an adagio and a fugue, which are both unimportant and commonplace.

"Alceste" was first performed in Weimar on May 28, 1773, and frequently repeated, always with the greatest success; 21 this was also the case in Gotha and Frankfort; and on August 13, 1775, Karl Theodor produced the opera with great brilliancy at Schwetzingen. 22 The success was great, and it was considered as marking an epoch that a German opera, written by a German poet, composed by a German musician, and sung by German artists, should be produced successfully by a German Prince. In the following summer MANNHEIM. Wieland received a commission to write a new opera, which Schweitzer was to compose under his immediate direction.

The way being once cleared, it was easy to take further steps in the same direction. The Elector hit upon the idea of representing scenes from the national history in German musical dramas. 23 Professor Anton Klein, formerly a Jesuit, and always one of the most zealous supporters of the patriotic struggle then proceeding, wrote for this purpose "GÜnther von Schwarzburg," 24 which was composed by Holzbauer, 25 and performed on January 5, in the magnificent opera-house, 26 with all the expenses guaranteed. 27 Schubart had anticipated with joy "the glorious revolution in taste," 28 and the applause was great, although the success was not so deep and lasting as might have been expected. The critics 29 found much in the text at which to take exception; Wieland shrank from speaking in the "Mercury" about "this so-called opera" for fear lest, absurd as it might appear, his criticism might be taken for envy. 30 An evident effort is made to give the work a deeper tone than one of mere patriotic sentiment; but in spite of the exalted emotion and passion of the words and music, and of all that could be done in the way of scenic accessories, the opera was too wanting in dramatic treatment and characterisation to take very deep root. The phraseology is in imitation of Klopstock, but the effort after force and "GÜNTHER V. SCHWARZBURG." originality is so clumsily made that Wieland's contempt is justified. Of the music, it was said by the minister Hompesch that the predominant feeling and ideas were neither French nor Italian, but genuinely German; 31 Schubart praised its mixture of German feeling and foreign grace, 32 and other critics spoke of its stamp of genius and its gentle grace. 33 Mozart, who saw the opera the day after his arrival at Mannheim, wrote to his father (November 16, 1777): "Holzbauer's music is very fine; far too good for the poetry. I am amazed at the spirit of so old a man as Holzbauer, for you would not believe the amount of fire in his music." The force and animation of Holzbauer's music are still apparent, though it is wanting in elevation and true musical sentiment. He has not attained to original dramatic characterisation except in single touches, more especially in the recitatives; he never deviates from the customary Italian form, but the adaptation of this form to German song was in itself considered a remarkable innovation.

The most distinguished vocalists, male and female, of the Mannheim opera were, thanks to Holzbauer's excellent school of music, almost all Germans. 34 Among them was Dorothea Wendling (nÉe Spumi, 1737-1811), "the German Melpomene of Mannheim's Golden Age," 35 who excited universal admiration by her perfect and expressive singing. According to Wieland she surpassed even Mara, and he found in her his ideal of song, as the language of the mind and the heart, every note being the living expression of the purest and most ardent emotion, and the whole song a continuous thread of beauty. 36 Her beauty (Heinse saw in her MANNHEIM. countenance all that was caressing, soft, and feminine, combined with the glow and animation of a passionate nature) 37 and her excellent acting 38 elevated her performances to a very high point. Her sister-in-law, Elizabeth Auguste Wendling (nÉe Sarselli, 1746-1786), though less famous, and hindered by continued ill-health, was nevertheless a praiseworthy singer; while Franciska Danzi (1756-1791), married afterwards to the oboist, Le Brun, 39 was an artist of the first rank, in her beauty and the compass of her voice, as well as in her thorough musical cultivation: at the time of Mozart's visit to Mannheim she was in London on leave of absence. 40

But the fame of these youthful singers was far surpassed by that of the now elderly tenor Anton Raaff. 41 He was born in 1714 at the village of Holzem, not far from Bonn, and was educated at the Jesuit seminary in Bonn. He had a beautiful voice, and the ease with which he sang by ear made it a great labour to him to learn his notes. The Elector Clemens August, who heard him sing in church, provided for his education as a singer, and gave him a salary of 200 thalers. After causing him to study a part in an oratorio, the Elector took him to Munich, where he was engaged by Ferrandini (p. 133) to appear in opera. This led to his going to study at Bologna under Bemacchi, from whose severe school he came forth as one of the finest tenor singers of the century. He sang in 1738 at Florence, at the wedding of Maria Theresa, left Italy in 1742 to return to Bonn, where his salary was raised to 750 florins, and sang at different German courts; in 1749 he performed in Jomelli's "Didone" at Vienna, to Metastasio's great satisfaction. 42 After a short stay in Italy, he repaired in 1752 to ANTON RAAFF. Lisbon for three years, and from thence in 1755 to Madrid, where he lived in close friendship with his musical director, Farinelli. 43 In 1759 they went together to Naples; here, it is said, his singing made so deep an impression on the Princess Belmonte-Pignatelli as to cure her of a deep melancholy into which she had been thrown by the death of her husband. 44 On his return to Germany, in 1770, the Elector Karl Theodor besought him to enter his service, on which Raaff modestly declared that he should esteem himself happy if the Elector would be content with the small remnant of his powers which was left to him. His voice was of the finest tenor quality that could be heard, from the deepest to the highest notes even, clear, and full. With a perfect mastery of the art of song, displaying itself in his extraordinary power of singing, at sight and of varying and introducing cadenzas, he combined a feeling delivery "that seemed but an echo of his own good heart," and a clear, deliberate judgment on things musical. 45 Added to all this his enunciation was so distinct that even in the largest hall not a syllable was lost. When Mozart first heard him in "GÜnther von Schwarzburg" his chief impression was that of an old man's failing strength. He writes (November 8, 1777):—

Herr Raaff sang his four songs and about 450 incidental bars in such a manner as to show that it is want of voice which makes it so bad. Unless one reminds oneself all the time that it is Raaff, the old and celebrated tenor, who is singing, one cannot help laughing. As for myself, if I had not known it was Raaff, I should have died of laughing. As it was, I took out my handkerchief and blew my nose. He never was, they tell me, anything of an actor; he should only be heard, not seen; his presence is not at all good. In the opera he has to die, singing a long, long, slow air, and he died with a smiling mouth, his voice falling so at the end as to be quite inaudible. I was sitting in the MANNHEIM. orchestra, next to Wendling, the flute-player, and I remarked that it was unnatural to expect a man to go on singing till he fell down dead. "Never mind," said I, "a little patience, and it will soon be over." "I think it will," said he, and laughed.

After hearing him oftener, Mozart did more justice to Raaff's artistic skill, but he always thought his style wanting in simplicity. In a letter from Paris (June 12, 1778) he pronounces a more detailed judgment, true to his convictions, yet anxious not to wrong the excellent man, of whom he was extremely fond:—

At his dÉbut in the "Concert Spirituel" here he sang Bach's scena, "Non so d'onde viene," which is my favourite song. I never heard him sing it before, and he pleased me; his style suits the song, but the style in itself, that of the Bernacchi school, is not at all to my taste. There is too much in it of cantabile. I grant that when he was younger and in his prime the effect must have been sometimes quite startling. I like it, too, but there is too much of it; it is often ludicrous. What really pleases me is his singing of certain little things andantino, which he does in his own style. Everything in its place. I imagine that his forte was bravura singing, which gives him still, in spite of age, a good chest and a long breath. His voice is fine, and very pleasant. If I shut my eyes when he is singing I hear considerable resemblance to Meissner's, only Raaff's voice is the pleasanter of the two. Meissner, as you know, has the bad habit of endeavouring to make his voice tremble; Raaff never does this; he cannot bear it. But, as far as true cantabile is concerned, I like Meissner better than Raaff, though he, too, according to my judgment, makes too much of it. In bravura passages and roulades, and in his good distinct utterance, Raaff bears off the palm.

All who saw Raaff on the stage pronounced him to be no actor, but only a singer. In private he preserved the serenity and moderation of an estimable and genuinely pious character. His moral conduct was faultless, his opinions earnest and severe. He had occasional fits of passion, but was for the most part good-humoured and benevolent, a true and self-denying friend. No wonder that Mozart conceived a strong and lasting attachment to such a man as this. 46

CHURCH MUSIC IN MANNHEIM.

The most distinguished tenor singer in Mannheim, after Raaff, was his pupil Frz. Hartig (b. 1750). 47

Church music in Mannheim did not stand on the same high level as the opera. 48 Schubart complains that little attention was paid to the true church style, that the old masses were despised, and new ones introduced in the most effeminate and mincing operatic style. Even Holzbauer's sacred compositions were far inferior to his operas. 49 Mozart heard a mass by Holzbauer, "written twenty-six years ago, but very good," as he writes to his father (November 4, 1777); "he writes well, in good church style, with fine passages for the voices and instruments." Notwithstanding, he was far from pleased with the Mannheim church music on the whole, and did not care, as he writes in the same letter, to have one of his own masses performed there:—

Why? On account of their brevity? No, for everything here is short. On account of their church style? Not at all; but only because, under present circumstances, it is necessary to write principally for the instruments, since nothing more wretched than the vocal department can be conceived. Six soprani, six alti, six tenori, and six bassi to twenty violins and twelve basses stand just in the proportion of 0 to 1, do they not, Herr Bullinger? They have only two male sopranos, and both old—just dying out. The soprano prefers singing the alto part, because his upper notes are gone. The few boys that they have are wretched, and the tenors and basses are like singers at a funeral.

The organ was still worse provided for, and Mozart pours out the full measure of his scorn on the two court organists:—

They have two organists here, for whose sake alone it would be worth taking the journey to Mannheim. I had a good opportunity of hearing them, for it is the custom here to omit the Benedictus, and for the organist to go on playing instead. The first time I heard the second organist, and the next time the first; but I have a better opinion of the second than of the first. When I heard him I asked, "Who is at the organ?" "Our second organist." "He plays wretchedly." When I MANNHEIM. heard the other I asked, "Who is that?" "Our first organist." "He plays more wretchedly still." I suppose if they were shaken up together the result would be something worse still. It makes one die of laughing to see them. The second goes to the organ like a child to the mud; he shows his trade in his face. The first wears spectacles. I stood at the organ and watched him for the sake of instruction. He lifts his hands high up at every note. His tour de force is the use of the sext stop; but he oftener uses the quint, or the octave stop. He often playfully lets fall the right hand, and plays only with the left. In a word, he does as he likes; he is so far completely master of his instrument.

But Mannheim was distinguished most particularly for its instrumental music, the orchestra being unanimously considered the finest in Europe. It was more numerous and better appointed, especially as to wind instruments, than was customary at the time. 50 It was here that Mozart first became acquainted with the clarinet as an orchestral instrument. "Oh, if we only had clarinetti!" he writes (December 3, 1778). "You cannot think what a splendid effect a symphony makes with flutes, oboes, and clarinets." 51

Burney had only one fault to find, a fault common to all orchestras of the day, viz., the occasionally defective intonation of the wind instruments. 52 The Mannheim orchestra was not only well-appointed and strong, but uniform and certain in execution, with delicate gradations of tone until then THE MANNHEIM ORCHESTRA. unknown. 53 Piano and forte were rendered in the most varied degrees; crescendo and diminuendo were first invented at Mannheim, and for a long time other orchestras made no attempt at imitation; 54 other means, too, such as the skilful blending of the wind and stringed instruments, 55 were made the most of to produce a well-arranged, finely gradationed whole.

The excellence of the Mannheim orchestra—whose performances excited as much admiration among contemporaries 56 as those of the Paris orchestra under Habeneck's conductor-ship in our own time—gained for it the honour of taking a regular share in the Elector's concerts (p. 288). 57 The band contained some of the first artists and virtuosi of the day, such as Cannabich, Toeschi, Cramer, Stamitz, and FrÀnzel among the violins, Wendling as a flute-player, Le Brun and Ramm as oboists, Ritter as bassoonist, and Lang as hom-player. But its fame rested chiefly on the excellent discipline of the orchestra, which, among so many first-rate artists, it was no easy task to maintain. 58 The kapellmeister at the time of Mozart's visit was Christian Cannabich (1731-1798), who had succeeded Stamitz in 1775. His compositions were doubtless overrated by his contemporaries; but he was admirable as a solo violinist, and still better as an MANNHEIM. orchestral leader, besides being an excellent teacher. The majority of the violinists in the Mannheim orchestra had issued from his school, and to this was mainly owing the uniformity of their execution and delivery. Cannabich, who was more of an organiser than an originator, had experimented with every condition and device for producing instrumental effects, and he laid special stress on technical perfection of execution, in order to insure good tutti players. Uniting, as he did, intelligence and a genius for direction 59 to "a true German heart," 60 and a moral and temperate life, he possessed the confidence and esteem of his musicians, and was therefore the better able to bring their performances to the highest excellence.

The many-sidedness of musical performances in Mannheim had helped to form a very original taste, and Karl Theodor himself was careful to encourage composers and virtuosi of all kinds. 61 The groundwork, both of thought and instruction, was Italian certainly; but the fact that the care of musical affairs was intrusted to German musicians, had an influence of its own, even before the national element had asserted its supremacy in Germany. French influence, too, made itself felt side by side with the Italian; the connection maintained by the Elector Palatine with the court of Versailles was profitable in every way to his musicians. Finally, the partiality for instrumental music which we have already noted must have tended to give an independent impulse to musical production in Mannheim.

His stay in a town so thoroughly and genuinely musical, 62 must have had a more abiding effect upon Mozart than was exercised by Salzburg, Augsburg, or even Munich. He came to Mannheim at a time when the minds of men were full of fresh and eager aspirations after artistic and literary CHR. DANNER. excellence; and fortunately for him the interest was mainly centred on his own peculiar province—the drama. We cannot imagine, however, that he was dazzled or abashed by the wealth of musical knowledge, or by the accomplishments of the noted musicians with whom he came in contact; his confidence in his own powers preserved him from any feeling of constraint or distrust. At first he was surprised at the small amount of attention which his presence excited. On the day after his arrival he made the acquaintance of the violinist, Chr. Danner (b. 1745), and went with him to rehearsal. 63 "I thought that I should not be able to keep from laughing, when I was introduced to people. Some of them, who knew me per renommÉe, were polite and respectful; but the rest, who did not know anything of me, stared at me in the most ludicrous manner. They think because I am little and young that there can be nothing great or old in me; but they shall soon see." Mozart always resented, even in later years, any reference to his small stature and unimposing appearance, even when it was made by way of contrast to his great performances.

His predictions were verified. It was not long before he had gained the esteem and admiration of the Mannheim musicians, the ready goodwill with which he placed his talents and services at their disposal, and his cheerfulness and good breeding in society, rendering him a universal favourite. His spirits rose in proportion as the memory of his position at Salzburg faded from his mind. Even from Munich he wrote to his father (September 26, 1777): "I am always in the best of spirits. I feel as light as a feather since I left all that chicanery behind! I am fatter, too, already." At Mannheim, in daily intercourse with cultivated artists, he MANNHEIM. must have felt completely at his ease. The members of the band were well paid 64 and well treated; Karl Theodor's love of music and general affability gave them considerable freedom of position, and intercourse with their circle was liberal and pleasant. Schubart declares that the houses, tables, and hearts of all the musicians were open to him during the whole of his stay, and that he had his share in their practisings and their festivities. 65 Mozart's experience was the same; although, his stay being longer, he could not fail to observe that the superficial frivolity of court life had affected the tone even of the artistic circles. 66

His friendly reception by Cannabich led to an intimate friendship and daily intercourse with the whole family, in which Wolfgang's mother was included. He often dined with them, and no long time elapsed before he found himself "al solito" at supper and spending the evening with the Cannabichs; they chatted, played a little sometimes, or Wolfgang used to take a book out of his pocket and read. Occasionally the party became merrier and not quite so decorous, as the following mock confession made by Wolfgang to his father will show (November 14,1777):—

I, Johannes Chrisostomus Amadeus Wolfgangus Sigismundus Mozart, do hereby confess that both yesterday and the day before (and on various other occasions) I remained out until twelve o'clock at night; and that from ten o'clock until the above-named hour I was at Cannabich's house, in company with Cannabich, his wife and daughter, Herr Schatzmeister, Herr Ramm, and Herr Lang, making rhymes and perpetrating bad jokes in thought and word, but not in deed. But I should not have conducted myself in so godless a fashion had not the ringleader of the sport, the above-named daughter, Liesel, incited and abetted me therein; and I must acknowledge that I found it extremely amusing. I bewail all these my sins and transgressions from the bottom of my heart; and, hoping to confess the same thing very frequently, I make an earnest resolution to amend my former sinful life. I therefore beg for a dispensation, that is if it is an easy one; if not, it is all the same to me, for the game is not like to come to an end very soon.

THE CANNABICH FAMILY.

That Mozart was always ready when music was wanted we cannot doubt; on one of his first visits to Cannabich he played all his six sonatas one after the other. Cannabich was not slow to recognise his extraordinary talent, nor to make use of it on occasion, as when Wolfgang made good clavier arrangements of his ballets for him. But self-interest had no share in the feelings with which he came to regard Wolfgang; both he and his wife loved him as their own son, threw themselves zealously into all that concerned his wellbeing, and watched over him as true friends. The magnet which attracted Wolfgang to the house at first, and kept him chained there for a time, was Cannabich's eldest daughter Rosa, who was then thirteen, "a pretty, charming girl," as Wolfgang writes to his father (December 16,1777); "she has a staid manner and a great deal of sense for her age; she speaks but little, and when she does speak it is with grace and amiability." 67 The day after his arrival (October 31) she played something to him; he thought her playing good, and began to compose a sonata for her, as a mark of attention to Cannabich. The first allegro was ready on the same day. "Young Danner asked me" he continues, "what I meant to do for the andante. 'I mean to make it exactly like Mdlle. Rose herself.' When I played it they were all wonderfully pleased. Young Danner said afterwards, 'You were quite right; the andante is exactly like her.'" On November 8 he wrote the rondo at Cannabich's, "consequently they would not let me away again. Mdlle. Rose's talent gained in interest for him when, on studying this sonata with her, he found that it had been neglected. "The right hand is very good, but the left is utterly ruined; if I were her regular master I would lay aside all music, cover the keys with a handkerchief, and make her practise passages, shakes, &c., first with the right MANNHEIM. hand and then with the left, slowly to begin with until the hands were perfectly independent; after that I believe I should make an excellent player of her." The regular lessons followed in due time; he gave an hour daily to the young lady, and was very well satisfied with the result. "Yesterday she gave me indescribable pleasure," he writes (December 6,1777), "by playing my sonata most beautifully. The andante (a slow one) was full of feeling; she enjoys playing it." His father thought the sonata wonderfully good (December 11, 1777); there was a little of the Mannheim affected taste in it, but not enough to spoil Wolfgang's own good style.

Another musician with whom Mozart entered into very friendly relations was the distinguished flute-player, Joh. Bapt. Wendling. Cannabich introduced him; "every one was as polite as could be" he informs his father. "The daughter Augusta, who was at one time the Elector's mistress, plays the clavier well. 68 Afterwards I played. I was in an excellent humour, and played everything out of my head, and three duets with the violin, which I had never seen before in my life, and the name of whose author I did not even know. They were all so delighted that I was obliged—to kiss the ladies! I had no objection as far as the daughter was concerned, for she is not by any means ugly." He composed a French song for this Mdlle. Gustl, of whom Wieland said that she was so like one of Raphael's or Carlo Dolce's Madonnas, that he could hardly refrain from addressing a "Salve Regina" to her. 69 She had given him the words, and her delivery of them was so charming that the song was called for every day "at Wendling's," and they all "raved about it." He promised to compose some more for her, and one at least was begun at a later time. 70 An aria with recitative was also sketched out for Dorothea Wendling, the mother; she had herself selected the words from FLUTE AND OBOE CONCERTOS. Metastasio's "Didone" (II. 4), "Ah! non lasciarmi no, bell' idol mio," and she, as well as her daughter, "went wild over this song." It was Mozart's custom in sketching his songs to write out the bass entire, and even some indications of the accompaniment, so that the song could be sung and in some measure accompanied from the sketch. Whether this particular song was ever completed we do not know. Mozart did not forget Wendling himself. We are told that a concerto of his was rehearsed at Cannabich's, to which Mozart had arranged the instruments (November 22, 1777). He had a dislike to the flute and a mistrust of flute-players, but he made an exception in favour of Wendling. When Wend-ling's brother teased him for this he said: "Yes, but you see, it is quite another thing with your brother. He is not a piper, and one need not be always in terror for fear the next note should be too high or too low—he is always right, you see; his heart and his ear and the tip of his tongue are all in the right place, and he does not imagine that blowing and making faces is all that is needed; he knows too what adagio means." 71

Wolfgang presented his oboe concerto to the oboist Friedr. Ramm (b. 1744), whom he met at Cannabich's, and who "went wild" over it (November 4, 1777). He made it his cheval de bataille, playing it five times during the same winter (February 13, 1778) with great success, "although it was known to be by me."

Mozart soon became universally liked and admired, as well for his readiness and good-nature in composing as for his performances on the organ and clavier; but we hear nothing more of his violin-playing. He gave a humorous description to his father of the effect made by his organ-playing soon after his arrival in Mannheim (November 13, 1777)

Last Sunday I played the organ in the chapel for a joke. I came in during the Kyrie, played the end of it, and, after the priest had given out the Gloria, I made a cadenza. Nothing like it had ever been heard here before, so that everybody looked round, especially Holzbauer. He MANNHEIM. said to me, "If I had only known I would have chosen another mass." "Yes," said I, "in order to do for me altogether." Old Toeschi (the concertmeister) and Wendling stood near me. The people were inclined to laugh, because every now and then, when I wanted a pizzicato effect, I gave little bangs to the notes. I was in my best humour. A voluntary is always played here instead of the Benedictus; I took the idea of the Sanctus and carried it out as a fugue. There they all stood and made faces. At the end, after the Missa est, I played another fugue. The pedal is different from ours, and that puzzled me a little at first, but I soon got used to it.

When the new organ in the Lutheran Church was tried (December 18) all the kapellmeisters were invited, and Wolfgang's mother writes how a distinguished Lutheran came and invited him also. He admired the organ both in pieno and in its single stops, but he disliked Vogler, who played it; he would not play much himself, only a prelude and fugue, but he arranged to go again with a party of friends, and then he meant to "have some rare fun on the organ." In the Reformed Church also, where the organ was considered a remarkably fine one, 72 he once played to a friend for an hour and a half.

The great admiration he excited as a clavier-player is described by his mother (December 28, 1777):—

Wolfgang is made much of everywhere; but he plays quite differently from what he does at Salzburg, for there are nothing but pianofortes here, and you never heard anything like the way he manages them; in a word, every one that hears him declares that his equal is not to be found. Although BeeckÉ has been here, as well as Schubart, they all agree that he surpasses them both in beauty of tone, in gusto, and delicacy; and what they most admire is his playing out of his head whatever is laid before him.

Clavier-playing was less esteemed in Mannheim than proficiency on an orchestral instrument, and Peter Winter, a true representative of the Mannheim band, could not play the clavier at all, and could not abide such jingling noise, as he used to tell his friends. 73 But Mozart had plenty of opportunity for comparing himself with other clavier-players.

VOGLER AS A VIRTUOSO.

The AbbÉ Joh. Fr. Xav. Sterkel (1750-1817), one of the most celebrated performers of the day, came from Mayence (where he was pianist and chaplain to the Elector) 74 during Mozart's stay at Mannheim. "Last evening but one," he informs his father (December 26, 1777), "I was al solito at Cannabich's, and Sterkel came in. He played five duets, but so quick as to be unintelligible, and neither distinctly nor in time—they all said so. Mdlle. Cannabich played the sixth, and she really did it better than Sterkel."

The same fault that he found with Sterkel, viz., the endeavour to make an effect by rapid execution and playing at sight, in reality a mere device to hide imperfect execution, Mozart found also with the playing of Vogler (1749-1814), the solitary clavier performer resident at Mannheim.

He tells his father (January 17, 1778) of his meeting Vogler at a large party:—

After dinner he had his two claviers brought, which were tuned together, and also his tiresome printed sonatas. I was obliged to play them, and he accompanied me on the other clavier. I was obliged, at his pressing request, to have my sonatas brought also. Before dinner he had stumbled through my concerto—the Litzau one (246 K.)—prima vista; 75 the first movement went prestissimo, the andante allegro, and the rondo really prestissimo. He played almost throughout a different bass to the one that was written, and sometimes the harmonies, and even the melodies, were altered. Indeed, this was inevitable, owing to the great speed: the eye could not see and the hand could not grasp the music. But what kind of playing at sight is that? The hearers (those

I mean, who are worthy of the name) can only say that they have seen music and clavier-playing. They hear and think and feel just as little as the performer himself. You can imagine that the worst part of it to me is not being able to say: Much too quick. After all, it is much easier to play fast than slow; notes can be dropped out of passages without being noticed; but is that desirable? The rapidity allows the right and left hand to be used indiscriminately: but should that be so?

In what does the art of playing at sight consist? In playing the piece correctly, in strict time, giving the proper expression to every MANNHEIM. passage and every note, so that it might be imagined that the player had composed the piece himself. Vogler's fingering is atrocious; his left thumb is like Adlgasser's, and he makes all the runs for the right hand with his first finger and thumb.

Mozart's antipathy to Vogler shines through this description, and is equally apparent whenever he has occasion to mention him. Personally he had nothing to complain of in Vogler: "Herr Vogler positively insisted on making my acquaintance," he writes to his father (January 17, 1778); "after plaguing me very often to go to him, he put his pride in his pocket and paid me the first visit." No assurance will be needed that the rivalry of the two in composition, organ and clavier-playing, would not lead Mozart to disparage great merit where it existed. It might have contributed to sharpen his judgment, which, however, was essentially the same as that passed on Vogler by the whole orchestra, "from the highest to the lowest." He was regarded as an interloper, who had usurped an important position in Mannheim, and had intrigued against such men as Holzbauer for the purpose; the violet stockings which he wore as papal legate were thought absurd; 76 and his habit of taking a prayer-book into society, together with his music, and of frequently keeping visitors waiting while he performed his devotions, was considered mere affectation; 77 many complaints were made of his haughty and depreciatory manner; and his own performances fell far short of the expectations excited by himself.

But apart from all influence of partisanship or gossip, it is quite conceivable that two such diverse natures should exercise a mutual repulsion on each other. Vogler was no doubt an original and striking character; the very fact that his contemporaries were either his enthusiastic admirers or his sworn enemies affords proof of this. He possessed musical talent, intellect and shrewdness, together with much energy of character, so that his attainments were extensive both in the arts and sciences.

VOGLER's CHARACTER.

But these qualities, uncombined with creative genius, could not reach the highest beauty and truth, either in art or science. We find Vogler, therefore, in whom creative genius did not exist, seeking for effect in the technicalities of his art, and as a consequence, in something outside the art itself. He prided himself especially on his programme music, 78 which was full of purely sensuous effects, and on his playing, which was crowded with theoretical difficulties. The principal charm was in both cases imported from without, not an essential product of the art itself. Vogler was the first to give this direction to musical activity, striving to hide a deficiency in creative power under general cultivation of mind, and, as a necessary result, hampering the natural development of true art. His celebrated pupils Weber and Meyerbeer have rendered the same tendency fruitful in consequences to modern music. A consistent endeavour after what is true and beautiful in art presupposes a singleness of mind in the artist which cannot exist with inordinate ambition and a calculating spirit. In truth the contradictions in Vogler's moral nature, which were remarked even by his adherents, 79 were as striking as those in his artistic nature. If we consider the impression such a man must have made on Mozart, whose creative genius was its own measure and law, penetrating the very essence of his being, and elevating even the drudgery of his profession to the freedom of high art, we can comprehend how he would instinctively recoil from Vogler; and how his own severe education, which had elevated and refined his nature without injuring his healthy love of truth, would prevent his doing full justice to his rival's merits. There can be no doubt that Mozart's opinion of Vogler, which he took no pains to conceal, gave great offence to the latter; but there is no evidence that he "plotted against him," as the father conjectures, nor does Wolfgang himself make any such accusation. Among Vogler's adherents in Mannheim was Peter Winter (1755-1826) who was "almost the only MANNHEIM. friend, that is the only intimate friend, that Vogler had." His daily offerings to Vogler's vanity were much to be regretted; 80 he objected, however, in after-days to be called Vogler's pupil. 81 He seems to have taken a dislike to Mozart, which the latter had cause to feel very sensibly.

The remaining members of the orchestra, however, were only the more attracted to Mozart by the position which he assumed in regard to Vogler. Wendling and Ramm meditated a journey to Paris during Lent, and Ritter, the bassoonist, was to precede them thither; they intended to give concerts together, and Wendling proposed to Wolfgang to accompany them, since such a composer and virtuoso as he would immeasurably strengthen their company. Wolfgang was strongly inclined to consent, and wrote to his father (December 3, 1777):—

If I stay here until Lent, I shall accompany Wendling, Ramm the oboist (and a very fine one), and Lauchery, the ballet manager, to Paris. Herr Wendling assures me that I shall have no cause to repent it. He has been twice in Paris (has only lately returned), and says it is the only place where fame and money can be made. "You are a man," says he, "who can do anything. I will show you how to set about it: you must compose operas, serious and comic, oratorios, and everything." Whoever has written a couple of operas in Paris is a made man at once; then there are the Concerts Spirituels, and the AcadÉmie des Amateurs, where you get five louis d'ors for a symphony. If you give lessons, it is at the rate of three louis d'ors for twelve. Sonatas, trios, and quartets are printed by subscription. Cannabich and Toeschi send a great deal of their music to Paris. Wendling is a man who understands travelling. Pray write me your opinion on the subject. It seems to me a good idea. I shall travel with a man who knows the Paris of the present day thoroughly, for it has altered very much. I should spend little, indeed I think not half so much as now, for I should only have to pay for myself; mamma would remain here, and probably stay with the Wendlings. Herr Ritter, who plays the bassoon very well, sets out for Paris on the 12th inst. Ramm is a right honest, merry fellow of about thirty-five; he has travelled much, and knows the world well. The greatest and best musicians here like and esteem me. I am always called Herr Kapellmeister.

Wolfgang's mother was not opposed to the project; she writes to her husband (December 11, 1777):—

PLANS FOR A JOURNEY TO PARIS.

About Wolfgang and his journey to Paris you must consider what is right: nowadays Paris is the only place to get on. Herr Wendling is an honourable man, well known to all: he has travelled much, and been in Paris thirteen times, so that he knows it thoroughly; our friend Herr von Grimm is his best friend also, and has done much for him. So you must decide as you like—I shall be ready to agree. Herr Wendling has assured me that he would act as Wolfgang's father. He loves him as his own son, and will, I am sure, take as good care of him as I do. You can well imagine that I am averse to parting from him; and if I have to come home alone, the long journey will be a great trial to me: but what can be done? The journey to Paris would be more fatiguing and too expensive; for one does not spend a fourth part travelling alone.

If this plan was to be carried out, Wolfgang must remain at Mannheim through the winter. His first endeavour, therefore, was to obtain a situation in the band from the Elector, and his friends eagerly seconded his efforts. Holz-bauer had taken him soon after his arrival to the manager, Count Savioli (November 4, 1777),where Cannabich chanced to be present:—

Herr Holzbauer said to the Count in Italian that I wished for the honour of playing before his Highness the Elector: I had been here fifteen years before, when I was eight years old; I was now older and taller, and my music had improved also. "Ah," said the Count, "that is young-," somebody or other for whom he mistook me. Then

Cannabich began to speak. I pretended not to listen, and talked to some one else, but I noticed that he spoke very earnestly. Then the Count said to me, "I hear that you play fairly well on the clavier."

I made an obeisance.

The Elector happened to be holding court at the time, and Count Savioli at once presented Wolfgang to the Electress, who received him very graciously, and remembered his being there fifteen years before, though she would not have recognised him. On November 6 there was a grand state concert, at which Mozart played a concerto, and before the closing symphony a sonata, and something "out of his head":—

The Elector and his wife and all the court were pleased with me. At the concert, every time I played she and the Elector came quite near my clavier. After the concert, Cannabich intimated that I might speak to the Elector. I kissed hands, and he said, "I think it is fifteen years MANNHEIM. since you were here before?" "Yes, your highness; fifteen years since I had the honour"—"You play remarkably well." When I kissed the hand of the Princess she said, "Monsieur, je vous assure, on ne peut pas jouer mieux."

The Electress informed him that she should like him to play to her alone, and they were obliged to remain until the command to do so should arrive. Some days after, Count Savioli handed him his present, a beautiful gold watch; ten gold caroli would, however, have been more useful to him than the watch, which was valued at twenty. "I have now with your permission five watches. I have a great mind to have a pocket made on each side, and to wear two watches (which is the fashion now) so that it may not occur to any one to give me another."

In his father's opinion Wolfgang would do wrong to remain in Mannheim any longer than necessary, unless he had certain prospects of a situation there; his good friends could watch over any future interests in his absence, and he ought not to lose the opportunity of making himself known in different places, and of earning money. According to intelligence received from Frankfort, there was nothing to be made there; but at Mayence, with the support of the concertmeister, Georg Ant. Kreuser, concerts might be arranged both in private, before the enthusiastically musical Elector, and in the town. 82 Something, too, might be made at Coblentz out of the Elector Clemens, between whom and the Elector Wolfgang had sat at table and composed with a pencil in Munich, when they were returning from England (p. 48). Nothing could be done in Bonn.

They might return to Mannheim after such expeditions as these, if there was any prospect of remaining there over the winter. Paris must only be thought of as a last resource; it would be a difficult and a risky undertaking. To L. Mozart, who was continually revolving schemes in his mind, it seemed in no way right that the travellers should have settled themselves so comfortably at Mannheim. Wolfgang, finding himself for the first time in a congenial THE ELECTOR. professional atmosphere, and in familiar intercourse with cultivated minds, was only too ready to hearken when every one said to him: "Where can you go in the winter? The season is too bad for travelling; stay here!" And then the prospects which so many good friends opened to him appeared to him in no wise uncertain. His mother allowed herself to be led by her son and his friends, and was easily persuaded that to stay in Mannheim would be most advantageous for Wolfgang.

The Elector had ordered Mozart to be conducted before his natural children, whom he visited for some hours every afternoon, taking great interest in their studies. Mozart, who was accompanied by Cannabich, thus describes the interview (November 8, 1777):—

I talked to the Elector quite familiarly. He is both gracious and good. He said to me, "I hear that you wrote an opera at Munich." "Yes, your highness. I humbly crave your grace, it is my greatest wish to write an opera here. I pray your highness not to forget me. I can write German, too, God be praised." Well, that may happen. 83 He has one son and three daughters; 84 the eldest and the young Count play the clavier. The Elector consulted me quite confidentially about his children. I spoke quite openly, but without blaming their master. Cannabich was of my opinion, too. When the Elector left he thanked me very politely.

Some days after he went again, and "played with his whole heart" three times at the request of the Elector, who sat by him "motionless"; a certain professor gave him a subject for a fugue. This seemed the surest way to the favour of the Elector. At Cannabich's instigation, as he tells his father (who counted on Cannabich's friendship, MANNHEIM. his interest being concerned on his daughter's account), he asked Count Savioli whether the Elector would not keep him there during the winter, and he would engage to give the children lessons. Cannabich promised to propose and support this plan to the Elector, but he must wait until after the gala days, and then the best results might be expected. But a thing like this must not be hurried, and patience would be required, as Wolfgang informs his father, and admonishes him not to lose time in speculations, which generally prove useless. In the meantime he had drawn on the banker for 150 gulden, "for the host would rather hear the jingle of money than of music."

This did not in any way please Wolfgang's father, who delivers a sharp reproof for his thoughtless expression as to the father's speculation being useless. "Gerechter Gott!" he writes, "you tell me not to speculate when I am in debt already on your account 450 florins, and you think you will put me in good humour by writing all sorts of absurd nonsense." He shows them how little use they have made of their time so far, and scolds them for not announcing their plans beforehand, so that proper preparations could be made. "I beg you, my dear Wolfgang, to be more thoughtful, and not to wait to write about things until they are past; otherwise all will go wrong." He points out how they have been living hitherto almost entirely on hope, leaving to him the care of the money which they required; he had not even received the accounts which his dear wife had promised him, and they had drawn money without giving him proper notice:—

A journey like this is no joke: you have not felt it hitherto. You must have something more serious in your head than nonsense: you have to foresee, to consider, to calculate, or else you will find yourself in a mess, without money—and no money means no friends, even if you give lessons a hundred times over, and compose sonatas, and play the fool every night from ten to twelve o'clock. Ask these friends of yours for credit! All the jokes will come to an end, and the most jocular countenance will turn grave on a sudden.

Hereupon followed a very vague money account from the wife (December 11, 1777):—

MOZART AND THE ELECTOR.

My dear Husband,—You wish to know what we have spent on our journey. We sent you Albert's bill, and the Augsburg one was thirty-eight florins. Wolfgang has told you that we were twenty-four florins short, but he has not included the expenses of the concert, which were sixteen florins, nor the hotel bill. So that when we came to Mannheim we had not more than sixty gulden, and if we had left in a fortnight, there would not have been much over. For travelling costs more, since things have grown so dear; it is not what it was—you would be surprised.

The irritated and somewhat despondent tone in which Wolfgang replied to his father's reproaches (November 20, 1777), shows that he felt their truth, and that the easy-going comfort of his life at Mannheim was disturbed by the first indications of his duty:—

If you consider the cause of my inaction to be laziness and want of care, then I can do nothing but thank you for your good opinion, and lament from my heart that my father does not know me better. I am not careless, I am only resigned to everything, and so can wait with patience and bear all, provided my honour and my good name of Mozart do not suffer. Well, if it must be, it must. But I pray you beforehand not to rejoice or to be sorry before it is time: for whatever happens it is all right if one is only healthy; happiness consists in the imagination (November 29, 1777).

But his father was not satisfied with all this moral philosophy, and calmly criticises the saying that happiness consists in imagination as being worthy only of a wild herb. He calls upon his son to realise the situation of being asked to pay, and having no money. "My dear Wolfgang, that is a saying fit for those who are satisfied with nothing."

The negotiations with the Elector continued, and Wolfgang sought to enlighten his father concerning Cannabich's intentions and behaviour (November 29, 1777):—

In the afternoon (after the first interview with Savioli) I was at Cannabich's, and, as it was by his advice that I had gone to the Count, he asked me whether I had been. I told him all. He said, "I should be very glad if you remained with us all winter; but it would be still better if you could take service here altogether. I said, "I could wish for nothing better than to be always with you, but I do not see how that is possible. You have two kapellmeisters already, and I could not consent to come after Vogler." "Nor need you," said he; "no musician here is under the kapellmeister, nor even under the manager. The MANNHEIM. Elector could appoint you his chamber composer. Just wait a little; I will speak to the Count about it." The following Thursday was the state concert; when the Count saw me he apologised for not having spoken, but said he was waiting for Monday, when the Court would be over. I let three days pass, and then, as I heard nothing, I went to inquire. He said, "My dear Mons. Mozart [this was Friday, that is, yesterday], to-day the Elector went hunting, and I could not possibly ask him; but to-morrow at this time you shall certainly have an answer."

I begged him not to forget. Truth to tell, I was a little annoyed when I came away, and I determined to take my easiest six variations on the Fischer minuet (179 K.)—I had already copied them out for the purpose—to the young Count, that I might have an opportunity of speaking to the Elector myself. When I brought them the governess could not contain her delight. I was politely received; when I produced the variations and said they were for the young Count, she said, "O, you are very good; but have you nothing for the Countess?" "Not at present," said I; "but, if I remain here long enough, I shall"—"A propos," she said, "I am glad that you are to remain the winter here." "Indeed!

I did not know"—"That is curious. I am surprised. The Elector told me himself." "Well, if he has said it, I suppose it is so; for of course my staying here depends on the Elector." I then told her the whole story. We agreed that I should come to-morrow at four o'clock, and bring something for the Countess. She would speak to the Elector before I came, and I should meet him there. I have been to-day, but he had not been there. I will go again to-morrow. I have a rondo for the Countess. Now, have I not reason enough to remain here and await the issue? Ought I to leave now that so important a step is taken? I have an opportunity of speaking to the Elector myself. I think I shall probably remain the winter here, for the Elector likes me, thinks much of me, and knows what I can do. I hope to be able to give you good news in my next letter. I beg you again not to sorrow or rejoice about it too soon, and to tell the affair to no one but Herr Bullinger and my sister.

But the affair was not so easily settled; in his next letter (December 3, 1777) Wolfgang could only tell his father of the many incidents which seemed to promise a good result:—

Last Monday, after three successive attempts morning and afternoon, I was fortunate enough to meet with the Elector. We all thought that our trouble was again in vain, for it was getting late; but at last we saw him coming. The governess at once placed the Countess at the clavier, and I sat near her, giving her a lesson: the Elector saw us so when he entered. We stood up, but he told us to continue. When she had finished playing, the governess remarked that I had written a charming rondo for her. I played it, and he was highly pleased. Then he asked, HOPES OF SERVICE AT MANNHEIM. "But will she be able to learn it?" "O yes," said I, "I only wish that I could have the happiness of teaching it to her myself." He took snuff and said, "I should like it, but would it not do her harm to have two masters?" "Oh, no, your highness, it only signifies whether she has a good or a bad one. I hope your highness would have no doubt—will have confidence in me." "Oh, certainly," said he. Then the governess said, "M. Mozart has also written variations on Fischer's minuet for the young Count. I played them, and he was again very pleased. Then he began to play with the children, and I thanked him for the presentation watch. He said, "Well, I will think about it. How long shall you remain here?" "As long as your highness commands. I have no engagement elsewhere." And that was all. This morning I was there again, and was told that the Elector had said several times last night that Mozart would remain all winter. Now that it has gone so far I must wait. To-day I dined at Wendling's for the fourth time. Before dinner, Count Savioli came in with the kapellmeister Schweitzer, who arrived yesterday. Savioli said co me, "I have spoken several times to the Elector, but he has not yet made up his mind." I told him I should like to say a word to him, and we went to the window. I told him the doubts of the Elector, complained of being kept waiting so long, and begged him to induce the Elector to engage me; only I feared, I said, that he would offer me so little that I should not be able to remain. Let him give me work: I wanted work. He promised to do as I asked—it may be this evening, since he does not go to court to-day; but to-morrow he has promised me a decided answer. Now, let what may happen, I shall be content. If he does not keep me, I shall ask for a parting gift, for I do not intend to make the Elector a present of the rondo and the variations. I assure you I take the affair quite composedly, knowing that all will be for the best, as, come what may, I have resigned myself to the will of God.

But for several days yet no answer could be obtained from the Elector except a shrug of the shoulders, and "I have not made up my mind." At last Mozart was able to acquaint his father with the result of all these negotiations; it was such as L. Mozart had expected from the first (December 10, 1777):—

There is nothing to be done with the Elector at present. The day before yesterday I went to the concert at court to get my answer. Count Savioli avoided me as long as he could, but I went up to him, and when he saw me he shrugged his shoulders. "What!" said I, "no answer yet?" "A thousand pardons," said he; "but, unfortunately, nothing can be done." "Eh bien!" I answered, "the Elector might have told me that sooner." "Yes," said he, "he would not have made up his MANNHEIM. mind now if I had not urged him to it, and represented to him how long you had been waiting already, and spending your money at the hotel." "That annoys me most of all," I answered; "it is not at all well done. But I am exceedingly obliged to you, Count (he is not called Excellency), for your endeavours on my behalf, and I shall be obliged if you will thank the Elector in my name for his gracious, though somewhat tardy, intelligence, and assure him that, if it had pleased him to engage me, he would not have repented doing so." "O," said he, "I am more sure of that than you believe."

The unexpected turn of affairs made quite as unpleasant an impression upon the Mannheim circle of friends as upon Mozart. He went at once to Cannabich's, and he being out hunting, related the whole story to his wife:—

When Mdlle. Rose—who was three rooms off and busied with the linen—had finished, she came in and said to me, "Is it your pleasure that we begin?" for it was time for a lesson. "I am at your service," said I. "We will have a good steady lesson to-day," said she. "We will indeed," I answered, "for it will not last much longer." "How so? Why?" She went to her mamma, who told her. "What!" said she, "is it really true? I do not believe it." "Yes, yes; quite true," said I. She played my sonata through quite seriously; believe me, I could not refrain from weeping; and before it was ended there were tears in the eyes of the mother and daughter, and of Herr Schatzmeister, who was present, for the sonata was a favourite with the whole house. "You see," said Schatzmeister, "when Herr Kapellmeister [they always call me so] goes away, he makes us all cry." I must say that I have made good friends here, and one learns to know them under such circumstances.

Wendling was specially concerned at the intelligence; when Mozart communicated it he grew "quite red," and said very hastily, "We must find some way of keeping you here, at all events for the two months before we go to Paris together." When Wolfgang went to dine with him next day he made him what seemed a very satisfactory proposal. A Dutchman (Dejean or Dechamps) nicknamed the Nabob, who lived on his means, and had been a friend and admirer of Wolfgang, offered to give him 200 florins for three short and easy concertos and two quartets for the flute; then Cannabich would guarantee at least two well-paying pupils, and Mozart was to have duets for clavier and violin printed by subscription. Wendling offered him board, and he could L. MOZART'S ANXIETIES. have free quarters at the house of the chamberlain Serrarius. Mozart was rejoiced at the prospect of being able to remain in Mannheim, and thought he should have enough to do for all winter in composing three concertos, two quartets, four or six clavier duets, besides a grand mass, which he intended to present to the Elector. The following day he set himself to find small, cheap lodgings for his mother, which was not an easy matter.

It was a satisfaction to Wolfgang's father, who was not surprised that Wendling should seek to retain so excellent a fourth party for the expedition to Paris, to have the state of affairs laid clearly before him. He stipulated only that the journey should not take place during the cold of winter, and thought the plan feasible, provided the Dutchman could be relied on; if not, they must at once proceed to Mayence. But on no account were the mother and son to separate. "As long as your mother remains, you must remain with her," he writes (December 18, 1777); "you must not think of leaving your mother to the care of others as long as you and she can be together." The small difference in rent was not worth considering, and it was impossible for her to go home at present. "Be most careful to remain with your mother and care for her, even as she has cared for you." It was not only physical care that he had in his mind, but watchfulness over his son's moral and religious behaviour. He expresses some anxiety on these points (December 15).

Let me ask you whether Wolfgang has not forgotten to go to confession lately? God before everything! From Him alone can we expect earthly happiness and eternal safety. Young people are apt to be impatient when told this; I know it, for I have been young myself; but, God be praised, I never failed to come to myself in time after any youthful folly, to flee from all danger to my soul, and to keep God and my honour, and the dangerous consequences of sin, always before my eyes.

His wife reassured him by saying that Wolfgang had confessed at the feast of the Immaculate Conception, and that they had heard mass regularly on Sundays, though not always on week-days. Wolfgang justified himself, not without a touch of irritability (December 20, 1777):—

MANNHEIM.

I have written that your last letter gave me great pleasure, and that is true; but one part of it vexed me a little—the question whether I had not somewhat neglected confession. I have nothing to reply to this, except to make you one request, which is—not to think so ill of me again. I am fond of fun, but be assured that I can be serious on occasion. Since I left Salzburg (and even before) I have met with people whose speech and actions I should have been ashamed to imitate, although they were ten, twenty, or thirty years older than myself; so I beg you earnestly to have a better opinion of me.

Under these circumstances, the offer of Serrarius to afford lodging, firing, and light to both mother and son, came very opportunely; Wolfgang was to give lessons to his daughter in return. The mother was especially pleased at the change, having been somewhat lonely at the hotel during Wolfgang's long absences. They had good beds, careful attendance, and she supped and spent the evenings with her hostess, chatting with her often until eleven o'clock. Wolfgang does not seem to have been particularly struck with the talent of the daughter of the house, Theresa Pierron, who had played the clavier since she was eight years old; he seldom mentions the "house nymph." Nevertheless, she practised one of his concertos, and performed it at a large musical party at home; and afterwards she played the third and easiest of his concertos for three claviers at a concert. Before his departure from Mannheim he composed (March 11, 1778) a clavier sonata with violin accompaniment for her (296 K.). He gave lessons in composition to young Danner, in return for which his mother dined there every day; he himself boarded at Wendling's. "Wolfgang," writes his mother, "has so much to do with composing and giving lessons that he has no time to pay visits to anybody. So you see that we can comfortably stay here during the winter; and it is all Herr Wendling's doing; he loves Wolfgang as his own son." Wolfgang himself gives his father the following account of his daily life (December 20, 1777):—

We cannot rise before eight o'clock, for our room, being on the ground-floor, is not light until half-past eight. Then I dress quickly; at ten o'clock I set to work composing until twelve or half-past; then I go to Wendling's and write a little more until half-past one, when we dine. At three, I go to give lessons in gallantry and thorough-bass to a Dutch SCHWEITZER'S "ROSAMUNDE." officer (De la Potrie), for which, if I do not mistake, I shall have four ducats for twelve lessons. At four I return home to give a lesson to the daughter of the house: but we never begin before half-past four, because we are waiting for lights. At six I go to Cannabich's and teach Mdlle. Rose; I stay there to supper, and then we talk or play a little, or some-times I take a book out of my pocket and read, as I used to do at Salzburg.

His mother had reason to say that Wolfgang was so busy he did not know which way to turn; and she might well add that her husband could not conceive how highly Wolfgang was esteemed for his music and other things, so that every one said that he had not his equal, and his compositions were literally idolised. At the same time the father is informed that Wolfgang's beard has to be removed; and on his question as to whether it has been cut, burnt, or shaved off, the answer is duly given: "The beard has not been shaved yet, only cut with scissors; but it cannot be done so any more, and next time the barber must be called in."

The great musical event which was engrossing public attention at this time was the approaching production of Wieland and Schweitzer's "Rosamunde."

As the result of flattering overtures made to him during the summer of 1776, 85 Wieland set to work on his text in the spring of 1777. 86 The subject—a curious one to choose for Mannheim, where the Elector had many Rosamunds, and the Electress took little pains to conceal her chagrin thereat (facts of which Wieland had no suspicion) 87 —inspired him with the greatest enthusiasm. This caused him to be all the more unpleasantly surprised when Jacobi and Goethe declared the opera a failure, and the minister Hompesch pressed for a revision of the last act. He wished to withdraw it altogether, although Schweitzer had already composed three acts of great beauty; but Hompesch would on no account consent to this, and he was obliged to undertake the revision. 88

MANNHEIM.

Wieland was far from being satisfied with his own share of the opera, but he declared that Schweitzer had produced a work which would attract people for miles round to hear it. 89

Wieland was invited to assist in person at the production of his opera. Dissatisfaction with the work, and domestic and economical considerations, caused him some hesitation; but the wish once more to enjoy music to the full finally prevailed, and he looked forward with pleasure to a meeting with old friends; Jacobi, Sophie la Roche and her daughter, and Max Brentano promised to come to Mannheim for the occasion. The production of the opera had been first fixed for the fÊte-day of the Elector (November 4, 1777), but owing to the delay caused by the revision it did not appear until January, 1778. When all the preparations, the splendid scenery and costumes were completed, Schweitzer came to Mannheim to conduct the final rehearsals himself. Mozart, who made his acquaintance at once, found him a good, honest man, but dry and positive like Michael Haydn, "only that his language is more refined (December 3, 1777). "There are beautiful things in the new opera, and I doubt not that it will succeed. 'Alceste' was a success, and is not half so fine as 'Rosamunde.' Certainly its being the first German opera had much to do with the success; and now that the novelty has worn off it has ceased to make the same impression." The opera was rehearsed daily, and it affords proof of the esteem in which Wolfgang was held by the band that, when Schweitzer was unwell, he had "to take his place, and conduct the opera with several of the violins at Wendling's" (December 18, 1777). Repeated hearing of the opera did not increase Mozart's admiration for it. "Wolfgang does not care for the new opera," writes his mother (December 18, 1777), "he says there is no nature in it, and much exaggeration, and that it is not well written for the singers; we must wait to see what effect it will produce." He writes himself (December 10, 1777): "'Rosamunde' was rehearsed at the theatre to-day; it is—good, but nothing more; and if it were bad, could it not be performed just the same?"

WIELAND AT MANNHEIM,

Later on (September 11, 1778), he pities Aloysia Weber on account of her poor part in "Rosamunde." "She has one song, which might be made something of, but the voice part is À la Schweitzer, like the barking of dogs; she has a kind of rondo in the second act, which allows her to sustain her voice, and display it a little. Woe to the vocalist, male or female, who falls into Schweitzer's hands! He will never acquire the art of writing for the voice." 90

The arrival of Wieland, who was esteemed before all German poets at Mannheim, 91 was eagerly looked for by the public, and Wolfgang looked forward to making his acquaintance. Wieland arrived on December 21, and was equally delighted with his reception by the Elector and with the homage of the populace. "Every one is anxious to have me, and each day is distinguished by something which makes the remembrance of it pleasant," he writes on December 26 to Sophie la Roche; 92 and to Merck on the following day: 93 "I can say nothing more than that I am well both in soul and body, for the reason that I have to play no part but the one natural to me, and that my affairs, so far as it appears, are prospering. God grant that I may not grow too happy among these people. But that is provided against."

Mozart was not carried away by the universal enthusiasm for the celebrated poet, and sends his father the following impartial description (December 27, 1777):—

I have made the acquaintance of Herr Wieland, but he does not know me as well as I know him, for he has not heard me play yet. He is not at all what I had expected to find him. His speech seems to me somewhat affected; he has a childish voice—a fixed stare—a certain scholarlike bluntness, and yet sometimes a stupid condescension. I am not surprised at anything in his behaviour here, whatever it may be in Weimar MANNHEIM. or elsewhere, for the people look at him as if he had come down from heaven. Every one yields to him, and there is silence directly he opens his mouth. It is only a pity that he keeps people in suspense so long, for he has a defect in his utterance, and has to speak very slowly, and stop every six words. He is extremely ugly, covered with pockmarks, and with a very long nose. His height is somewhat greater than your own.

After Wieland had learnt to know Mozart also, he writes (January 10, 1778): "Herr Wieland, after hearing me twice, is quite enchanted. The last time he paid me all manner of compliments, ending up with, 'It has been a real happiness to me to meet you here!' and a squeeze of the hand."

Wieland was delighted with Wendling, and all the preparations for the opera were found satisfactory.

The first performance was fixed for January 11, and he hoped to obtain much honour for his "Rosamunde" in Mannheim, if only the illness of the Elector of Bavaria did not frustrate all his hopes. But this fear was unhappily realised. The Elector Maximilian died on December 30; the intelligence reached Mannheim as Karl Theodor was attending a religious service for the New Year, and the following evening he set out for Munich. 94 All the festivities came to an end. "The death of Maximilian Joseph," writes Wieland to Baron von Gebler (January 5, 1778), "has disappointed both myself and the public. My opera "Rosamunde," set to admirable music by Herr Schweitzer, was to have been given for the first time on the 11th, and repeated eight times during the carnival. I had every prospect of as great a success as perhaps an opera ever had, when the death of the Elector of Bavaria brought about an alteration on the stage of public events, the lugubrious decorations of which have quite suppressed mine." 95 The opera was rehearsed once more in his honour, and then he travelled back to Weimar, content with the result of his visit, though his main object was defeated. 96

The change of government had more lasting effects for PROSPECTS OF WORK IN VIENNA. Mannheim, and especially for the musicians there, than a mere temporary suspension of gaiety. The patriotic inhabitants of the Palatinate could not indeed believe that their Elector would transfer his capital to Munich; 97 but the prospects of the future were uncertain and alarming, owing to the threatening turn taken by political events.

If Mozart had felt himself moved to write German operas in Munich, the impulse must have been vastly strengthened by his stay in Mannheim. He had offered his services to the Elector with this object. When the offer was declined, a new prospect was opened to him in Vienna, with which he acquaints his father (January 11, 1778): 98 —

I know for certain that the Emperor is thinking of establishing opera in Vienna, and that he is seeking everywhere for a young kapellmeister, a German and a genius, who is capable of producing something new. 99 Benda is seeking in Gotha, but Schweitzer has more influence. This would be just the thing for me; well paid, of course. If the Emperor gives me 1,000 florins I will write him an opera, and if he does not pay me it is all the same. Pray write to all imaginable friends in Vienna that I am in a position to serve the Emperor. If needs be, he may try me with an opera, and what he does after, I really do not care. Adieu. I hope you will put the affair in motion at once, or some one may be beforehand with me.

L. Mozart was not the man to let this opportunity slip. He applied at once to Heufeld, who had formerly been well disposed towards them, and whose knowledge and influence could be relied on, begging him to exert himself on Wolfgang's behalf. Letters from Messmer (pp. 86,145) had just arrived from Vienna, asking why Wolfgang did not come to Vienna, where there was "always room for true talent." He should have board and lodging with him as long as he liked, and his friends would see to his interests. But the prospects, so far as the opera was concerned, were not very promising. L. Mozart was of opinion (January 29, 1778) MANNHEIM. that the Emperor was like the Archbishop—"he wanted a good thing at a very cheap rate." A letter from Heufeld was definitive (January 23, 1778):—

It is true that His Majesty the Emperor, to whom his mother has quite resigned the care of the theatre, wishes to establish German opera. All orders come through the High Chamberlain, Count von Rosenberg, to the company, among whom there is a sort of council for the regulation of the pieces and parts. At the opera, which is now combined with the national company," the additional singers are Mdlle. Cavalieri, and Schindler's daughter, married to Langin, with a bass, whose name I forget (Fuchs). To-day was the first rehearsal of the first opera ("Die Bergknappen"), of which Herr Weidmann has furnished the words, and Herr Umlauf, who plays the viola in the orchestra, the music. The performance will take place shortly. All this is only an experiment to see if anything can be done with the Germans in this line. It is certain that no composer will be engaged at present, particularly as Gluck and Salieri are in the Emperor's service. To recommend any one at present would be the surest way to failure; and no advocate can be employed to reach the Emperor's ear, since he arranges everything himself according to his own ideas and inclinations. Every one knows this, and no one ventures on a proposal or recommendation. His Majesty has sought out Gluck and Salieri, and most of those who are now in his service, in the same way. I could give you several examples of people who have applied indirectly to His Majesty and have failed in their suit. The way in which you propose approaching him seems to me far from good, and the reason I decline presenting a petition is my certain conviction that it would be useless, and, indeed, prejudicial to your interests. There is another more creditable and more certain way open to first-rate talent, and that is the production of some work, for which there is every opportunity. Let your son take the trouble of setting any good German opera to music and submitting it to the supreme pleasure of the Emperor, and then let him wait the event, and follow in person if his work is well received. In this case, indeed, his presence will be necessary. Your son may be without any apprehension with regard to Benda and Schweitzer; I can answer for there being no trouble from that quarter. Their fame is not so great here as elsewhere. Perhaps even Wieland's great opinion of these gentlemen 100 has somewhat abated since his stay at Mannheim. I have a letter of the 5th inst. from him, in which he acknowledges to having received altogether new ideas upon music in Mannheim.

OVERTURES FROM THE ARCHBISHOP.

When this letter reached Mozart he was in a very excited state (the reason for which will be presently noted), and the effect it produced was greater than mere disappointment. His self-love, which had been raised to so high a pitch by the appreciation of his Mannheim admirers, was wounded by the proposal that he should write a comic opera on approval, like a beginner. Even the condescending good nature of Heufeld to his "dear Wolfgang" increased his annoyance.

His father was full of plans and cares for his son's advancement. An opportunity which offered for a settlement in Salzburg was little likely to please Wolfgang. The city had been thrown into consternation on December 21, 1777, by the paralytic seizure of Adlgasser while he was playing the organ. His death followed the same evening. It soon became clear that Wolfgang's return and application for the vacant post would not be unacceptable to the authorities; and his father informs him of several hints he had received to that effect (January 12, 1778):—

His Excellency the Lord High Steward apprised me that his Serene Highness had commanded him to inquire from Haydn and myself if we knew of a really good organist; he must also be an excellent clavier player, of good appearance and manners, and able to give lessons to the ladies of the court. "What!" said I, "did his Serene Highness mention me?" "Yes; you in particular," said he, and laughed. I said, "I know nobody with all these qualities." If there is such an one in Mannheim, he may make his fortune.

But even if his father had been willing to take these hints, Wolfgang would have had no ear for them.

With the idea that a longer stay in Mannheim might yet result in a permanent engagement, L. Mozart wrote to the Padre Martini in December, 1777, sending him Wolfgang's promised portrait, and begging him to use all his influence with the Elector. 101 With his usual good nature, the Padre promised to write to Raaff authorising him to say to the Elector "in his name everything imaginable in Wolfgang's MANNHEIM. favour, and to praise him according to his deserts; even if the political situation should operate unfavourably at the moment, the appeal would certainly bear fruit at a future time." No such letter, however, reached Raaff from Padre Martini; but Wolfgang made it the occasion of forming a closer acquaintance with Raaff, and advancing his own claims. He writes (February 28, 1778):—

Yesterday I took Raaff a song which I had just written for him. The words are "Se al labro mio non credi, bella nemica mia," &c. I do not think they are Metastasio's. The song pleases him greatly. One has to go carefully to work with a man like this. I selected the words with care, because I knew that he had sung them before, and that they would come easier and more pleasantly to him. I asked him to tell me candidly if he did not care for them or like them, and I would alter the song to his pleasure, or write it over again. "Heaven forbid!" said he, "let the song remain as it is, for it is very fine; only I must beg you to shorten it a little, for I have lost the power now of sustaining my voice so long." "Willingly," said I; "as much as you please. I took care to make it long, for it is much easier to curtail than to lengthen a song." After he had sung the second part, he took off his spectacles, looked hard at me, and said, "Beautiful, beautiful! That is a charming second part," and he sang it three times. When I went away, he thanked me cordially, and I assured him in return that I would arrange the song to his satisfaction. I like a song to be fitted to the singer, like a well-made garment. 102

The aria (295 K.), without the introductory recitative, has the following words:—

The treatment is more strictly orthodox than had latterly been usual with Mozart, apparently out of consideration to the singer. The first part is an elaborate adagio, full of PREPARATIONS FOR PARIS. simple melody and fervent expression; the tone of deep sorrow given to the words "aprimi il petto" is very impressive, melodious and pleasing, with few passages, and those not florid. The second part (allegretto, 3-8, in G minor), is especially rhythmical and original in its harmonies, animated, and full of expression. Although the arrangement of this part is quite in the old style, it has decided individuality, and contrasts so effectively with the adagio that one can easily understand the delight with which it inspired the old singer. The song does not exceed the compass of—[See Page Image]

and keeps to the position of the tenor voice proper, full opportunity for effective display being afforded to the singer. The free and finely coloured accompaniment never obscures the voice, 103 and the whole song is not inferior to later and better known works.

The time had now arrived for the expedition to Paris, and Mozart's anxious father was unsparing in thought and wise counsel. He advised them to prepare in good time for the mother's journey from Mannheim to Augsburg at the beginning of March, and he impressed upon Wolfgang that his stay in Paris was not to be limited by weeks or months, but was to last until he had gained both fame and money; he must therefore wind up all his affairs in Mannheim before he left. His father also gave him circumstantial rules for his guidance in society; he was to avoid intimacies, especially with other composers, such as Gluck, Piccinni, and GrÉtry, whose rivalry might be feared, "de la politesse, et pas d'autre chose!" He was above all to observe the greatest prudence in his dealings with the female sex, who were always on the watch for young men of great talent whom they might dupe and entangle, or even marry; "that would be my death," says his father, and he sends him a long list MANNHEIM. of their patrons during their former stay, whom he was to seek out immediately on his arrival. He is especially assured of the tried friendship of Grimm, and of his own studies and duties: "Think daily what you owe to God, who has given you such extraordinary talents."

To L. Mozart's astonishment he received a letter from Wolfgang (February 4, 1778), informing him of his intention of giving up the journey to Paris, and of the reasons which had led to this determination:—

Mamma and I have talked it over, and agreed that the life which Wendling leads does not suit us. Wendling is a thoroughly honest, good man, but he and all his household are totally without religion; his daughter's relations to the Elector sufficiently prove this. 104 Ramm is good at heart, but a libertine. I know myself, and know that I have so much religion that I should never commit an action that I could not proclaim to the whole world; but the mere thought of travelling with people whose way of thinking is so opposed to mine (and to that of all honourable men) frightens me. They may do as they please, but I have no wish to accompany them; I should not have a happy hour, I should never know what I was saying; for, in one word, I have no confidence in them. Friendship without a religious basis is not lasting. I have already given them a little prÆgusto. I have told them that letters have reached me, of which I can say nothing further than that they interfere with my journey to Paris with them; I may be able to follow, but perhaps I shall have to go elsewhere, and they must not depend upon me.

The mother corroborates all this, and declares she had never approved of the society of Wendling and Ramm, but that she had said nothing, for she was never listened to. In her next letter she asserts that it would certainly be dangerous companionship for Wolfgang, and tells her husband: "It is true that Herr Wendling is the best-natured man in the world, but neither he nor his family have any idea of religion, nor care for it; neither the mother nor daughter enter a church all the year round, nor do they ever confess nor hear mass, but they are always going to the play; they say the church is not healthy."

L. Mozart was not a little surprised that his wife and son WOLFGANG'S WISH TO REMAIN IN MANNHEIM. should so suddenly discover this lack of faith at the end of a long acquaintance. "You are quite right not to travel in undesirable company," he answers (February 16, 1778); "but you must have been aware of the bad qualities of these men for a long time, and you have had so little confidence in your anxious father, that you have never written to ask his advice on the subject, and (shocking!) neither has your mother done so." There was not much to be said in answer to this, except that they had allowed themselves to be deceived by the universal praise of Wendling, and by his really good qualities, and had overlooked his want of religion.

Wolfgang gave his father other reasons against the expedition (February 7, 1778):—

I have already given you my chief reason for not going with these people to Paris. The second is that I cannot quite see what I should have to do in Paris. My only means of advancement would be lesson-giving, and that work is distasteful to me. I have had a striking example of that here. I might have had two pupils. I went to each of them three times, then I found one of them out; consequently I did not go again. I will gladly give lessons as a favour, particularly to any one who shows genius and a real wish to learn. But to be obliged to go to a house at a certain hour, or to be obliged to wait at home for a pupil, is what I cannot do, even if it were to bring me some profit. I leave that to those who can do nothing but play the clavier. I am a composer, and a born kapellmeister; I ought not to bury my talent for composition which a merciful God has so richly bestowed upon me (I may say it without pride, for I feel it now more than ever); and pupils are most distracting to the mind. I would rather (so to speak) neglect the clavier than composition; for the clavier is only a subordinate affair; only, God be praised! a very powerful subordinate.

He had said the same to Wendling, and told him that if he would only put something certain in his way, he would gladly follow to Paris, "especially if it was an opera; opera-writing is my chief idea and object, French rather than German, but Italian rather than either French or German. Wendling and his friends are all of opinion that my compositions would be wonderfully successful in Paris; for, as you know, I can adapt myself to every sort and style of composition."

All things considered, we cannot but feel that Wolfgang's MANNHEIM. father was justified in writing as follows (February 23, 1778)

So you intend only to give lessons as a favour, do you? and you mean to leave your old father in his present straits? For a young fellow like you lesson-giving is far too much trouble, even when it is well paid. It is more fitted to your old father to run from house to house for a wretched pittance in order to support himself and his daughter, and to send the little that remains to you, instead of paying his debts; and all that you may amuse yourself by giving lessons to some silly girl for nothing! My son, reflect, and give ear to your own good sense. Reflect whether you do not deal more hardly with me than our prince himself. God has given you an excellent judgment, and two things only hinder you from employing it on your own affairs: first, a trifle too much of conceit and self-love, and, secondly, an inclination to be over-confiding and to open your heart to every one you meet.

He made him easy as to lesson-giving in Paris (February 16, 1778)

In the first place, no one will discharge his master at once in order to take you; and, in the second place, no one would venture to engage you, nor should you take any one, except a lady, now and then, who plays well already and has a fancy for learning from you, for which she is willing to pay well. Such lady pupils as these will take endless trouble to collect subscriptions for your compositions. The ladies in Paris are omnipotent; they are great amateurs of the clavier, and many of them play extremely well. They would be your best allies for getting commissions; and you will be able, by their help, to make both fame and money with clavier pieces, violin quartets, symphonies, and such collections of French songs with the clavier as you lately sent me; then, at last, you will arrive at an opera. Why do you hesitate? But you always want things done in a moment, before you have been either seen or heard. Look down the long list of our former acquaintances in Paris; they are all, at least the greater number, the best people in the town. They are all most anxious to see you again, and if only six of such persons (nay, a single one would suffice) were to take you by the hand, you might do as you pleased.

All this notwithstanding, however, we cannot but feel that Wolfgang's consciousness of his true vocation and his lively protest against any sort of pressure from without did honour to him, far more honour than the insinuation of unbelief against his true friend Wendling, to whom he was already deeply indebted. Not that Mozart was insincere—he was a faithful son of his Church—but other feelings were at work REPROACHES AND EXPLANATIONS. here, which obscured his judgment. Wendling was inconsolable at Wolfgang's refusal to join the party; and the latter endeavoured to persuade himself that motives of personal interest had a share in the regret of his friend. Be it as it may, Wendling and Ramm set off for Paris on February 15, leaving Wolfgang at Mannheim, not quite free from compunction. "If I thought," he writes to his father (February 14, 1778), "that you were really annoyed about my not going to Paris with them, I should repent having remained here; but, after all, the road to Paris is not closed to me."

L. Mozart was not altogether displeased at the turn of affairs; what really angered him was to hear from Wolfgang (February 4, 1778): "I am getting on at my ease with the music for Mons. de Jean, for which I am to have 200 florins; I can stay here as long as I like, for neither my board nor lodging cost me anything." His father had warned him before (December 11, 1777): "If you examine your conscience you will find that you have a strong tendency to procrastination"; and now he writes (February 12, 1778): "I am astonished to hear that you are finishing Mons. de Jean's music at your ease. Can it be that you have not already completed it! And you were thinking of leaving Mannheim on the 15th, and have been making expeditions to Kirchheim? Well, never mind, only beware that Herr Wendling and Mons. de Jean do not play you false, for the proposal was only made with the intention of enabling you to go with them. Let me have an answer by the next post, that I may know how the matter stands." The information which Wolfgang furnished (February 14, 1778) was not consolatory:—

Herr de Jean, who also goes to Paris to-morrow, has paid me only ninety-six florins (miscalculating the half by four florins) because I had written only two concerti and three quartetti. But he will be obliged to pay me the whole, for I have arranged with Wendling to send the music after them. It is not extraordinary that I should not have been able to finish it. I never have a quiet hour; night is my only time for writing, for I cannot even get up early. Besides, one is not always in the humour for writing. I could certainly scribble away the whole day; but when a thing is to go forth to the world bearing my name, I am determined that MANNHEIM. I will not be ashamed of it. You know how stupid I am when I have always to compose for one instrument (and that one which I dislike). I have written other things from time to time for a change, such as clavier duets and portions of masses. But now I have set to work in earnest on the clavier duets, so that I may have them printed.

In a letter from Paris (July 20, 1778) he mentions only "two quartets for the flute," and on October 3, 1778, he speaks of "the flute concerto." Two quartets for flute, violin, viola, and violoncello are known. One of them (281 K.) is inscribed, "Mannheim il 25 Dec., 1777," and must therefore be the same which is mentioned in the letter of December 18 as being almost finished. It is in D major, in the usual three movements, the middle one, an adagio 3-8, being accompanied throughout pizzicato, the flute leading the melody. The whole piece is easy, both in style and composition, the flute kept mainly in the foreground, and the accompanying parts firmly and skilfully handled, without any actual elaboration. The second quartet (298 K.), according to a notice appended by a strange hand to the original manuscript (in the imperial library at Vienna), was composed in Paris in 1778. It is in A major, and begins with variations on a simple theme, in which each instrument in succession comes in obbligato. Then follows a minuet, and as a finale a "rondieaoux," the heading of which testifies to Mozart's merry humour; it runs: "Allegretto grazioso, ma non troppo presto, perÖ non troppo adagio, cosi, cosi, con molto garbo ed espressione." It is likewise easy in every respect, shorter, and somewhat fresher than the first movement. A flute concerto in D major (314 K.) bears much the same character, and was composed for the "true philanthropist, the Indian Dutchman." It is lively and cheerful, without laying claim to deeper significance; the accompaniment, although kept well in hand, betrays in little touches the practised hand of a master. An andante in C major for the flute, with orchestral accompaniment has also been preserved (315 K.). The original is not dated, but the handwriting, the Mannheim paper, and the well-founded assumption that Mozart never wrote for the flute, except by commission, point to this time. FÜrstenau, however, remarks that Mozart treats the flute THE FATHER'S DISAPPOINTMENT. with a perfect knowledge of the instrument, its technique and easily attained effects.

Nothing is known of the mass on which he was engaged at Mannheim, unless a detached Kyrie in E flat (322 K.), serious and dignified in expression, original and free in treatment, may be referred to this period.

He writes on the 28th February, 1778, that he has still two clavier sonatas to write: "But I am not in a hurry with them, for they cannot be printed here. Nothing can be done by subscription—it is beggary, and the engraver will not take the risk on himself unless I promise him half the profits. I would rather have them printed in Paris, where the publishers are glad of something new, and pay capitally, and where much also can be done by subscription." One of the sonatas (304 K.) was, according to the inscription, finished in Paris; all the six were published there in 1778 by Sieber, and were dedicated to the Electress (301-306 K.).

Wolfgang's dilatoriness was a hard blow to his father, who had counted on the price of these compositions to cover the cost of the Mannheim visit and of the journey to Paris. He saw plainly that he must not only defray these himself, but must also provide for the future, and he found himself in great perplexity. He writes in troubled strain (February 16, 1778):—

We have tried every means to make you happy, and ourselves through you, and at least to set your future career on a firm foundation: but fate has willed that we should not succeed. Our last venture has sunk me very low indeed, and, as you know, I am now seven hundred florins in debt, knowing not how I am to support myself, your mother and sister, on my monthly pay; not a kreuzer can I hope for from our prince. You cannot but see clearly, therefore, that the future fate of your old parents, and of your good devoted sister, is in your hands.

The sister, an ever-present witness of the cares and perplexities of her father, at a loss to know how the new year's bills were to be met, or how he was to procure the new clothes he needed, grasped the state of affairs very thoroughly. She practised the clavier with redoubled zeal, and had made great efforts thoroughly to master thorough-bass and the art of preluding; she foresaw that after her father's death her MANNHEIM. music would be her mother's and her own sole dependence. She was deeply grieved at the bad news from Wolfgang, and "had her full share of weeping." Wolfgang wrote crossly that she "should not cry for nothing" (February 19, 1778); but he must have felt ashamed of himself when his father's answer to this came (February 26, 1778)

She did not cry over nothing when she cried over your letter; but, nevertheless, she said when she heard that you had not got the 200 florins, "Thank God that it is no worse!" although she has considerable interest in the matter, and knows that, in order to go on helping you, her own just claims must be laid aside.

And why was it, the father must have asked himself, that Wolfgang was so suddenly blind to his own interests, and forgetful of his duty to his family? It required no great skill in reading between the lines to find the answer in his son's own letters. The stay in Mannheim influenced his artistic life through the intellectual atmosphere of a capital in which flourished German science and German art; but beyond and above this, it was there that he was seized by the passion which sways the innermost being of man, and blunts for the time every other feeling. We have seen how susceptible he always was to female charms, and how he delighted in intercourse with agreeable women, whose attractions often threw a favourable light on his opinion of their musical acquirements.

Now, for the first time, there awoke in his heart a passionate attachment to a young singer of extraordinary talent; the beauty of her voice as it developed under his loving tuition, coupled with the unhappy circumstances of her life, increased the young man's generous ardour, and aroused his lively sympathy. Aloysia Weber, the second daughter of a man in a subordinate position at the theatre, 105 was fifteen MDLLE. WEBER. years of age, and of great beauty. His letters, outwardly expressive only of his admiration for her singing, are not the less indicative of the state of his heart; artistic delight and loving passion are charmingly and unconsciously blended in every sentence. The view which it is permitted us to take of the innocent heart of a youth who could feel as warmly and tenderly as he could judge impartially and artistically, is the more striking, since it helps us to apprehend how much was torn away with this bud, destined never to unfold into blossom. Wolfgang first mentions her in an account of a little professional tour (January 17, 1778)

Next Wednesday I am going for a few days to Kirchheim-Poland, to the Princess of Orange (p. 43); I have heard so much that is good of her, that at last I have decided. A Dutch officer, and my very good friend, was dreadfully scolded by her for not bringing me with him, when he went to pay his respects at the new year. I shall get at least eight louis-d'or; for she is a great musical amateur, and I have had four songs copied for her; I shall give her a symphony, too, for she has a nice little orchestra, and gives concerts every day. 106 The copying of the songs will not cost me much, for it has been done by a certain Herr Weber, who is going over with me. He has a daughter of fifteen, who sings extremely well, with a beautiful, pure voice. She only wants action to be fit for a prima donna on any stage. Her father is a good, true-hearted German, who has brought up his children well, which is the reason that the girl is persecuted here. He has six children, five daughters and one son. For fourteen years he supported himself and his family on 200 florins a year, and because he has always faithfully fulfilled his duties, and has provided the Elector with a first-rate singer, he has now actually 400 florins. She sings my song for De Amicis with the fearful passages excellently well; she is going to sing it at Kirchheim-Poland.

After his return he narrates the particulars of this "holi-day-trip" (February 2, 1778)

We sent a note at once to the castle, and next day the concertmeister, Rothfischer, waited on us. In the evening we went to the court, it being Saturday; Mdlle. Weber sang three songs. I pass over her singing with one word, excellent. I spoke to you of her merits in my last letter, and I shall not be able to close this without saying more, as I am now learning to know her better, and to appreciate her full powers.

MANNHEIM.

Afterwards we supped at the officers' table. Sunday and Monday we dined at court; there was no music on Sunday evening; there never is, so that they have only about 300 musical evenings in the year. We might have joined the gaming-table, but much preferred remaining at home. We would willingly have dispensed with the dinner at court, since we are never so happy as when alone together; but we looked at it from an economical point of view, having spent enough already. On Monday there was music, and again on Tuesday and Wednesday; Mdlle. Weber sang in all thirteen times, and twice played the clavier, which she does very well. What surprises me most is her correctness. Only imagine, she played my difficult sonatas slowly, but without missing a note, prima vista, upon my honour. I would rather she played my sonatas than Vogler. I have played in all twelve times, and once by desire on the organ in the Lutheran church, and I have waited on the Princess with four symphonies; for all this I have received seven louis-d'ors in silver money, and my poor dear Weber five—basta! We have lost nothing by it. I have clear forty-two florins profit, and the inexpressible pleasure of having made the acquaintance of true-hearted Catholic and Christian people. A propos, you must not be surprised that my seventy-seven florins have been reduced to forty-two florins. It was a true pleasure to come together with good sympathetic people. I could not do otherwise than pay half the expenses; but that will not happen on any other journey; I have said already I shall only pay for myself. Afterwards we stayed five days at Worms, where Herr Weber has a brother-in-law, the Dean of the monastery, who stands in fear of Herr Weber's sharp-pointed pen. We were very merry, and dined and supped every day with the Dean. I can truly say that this little journey has been good practice on the clavier for me. The Dean is a very wealthy, sensible man. Now it is time that I conclude; if I were to write all that I think I should run short of paper.

After his return to Mannheim he devoted almost his whole time to the Webers, and to the musical education of their gifted daughter. He studied with her all the songs which he had brought, and begged his father to send him from Salzburg "an aria cantabile, cadenzas, and anything else suitable." Then he procured her an opportunity of being heard. He writes (February 14, 1778):—

Yesterday Cannabich gave a concert, and everything performed—except the first symphony by Cannabich himself—was mine. Mdlle. Rose played my concerto in B flat (238 K.); then, by way of a change, Herr Ramm played for the fifth time my oboe concerto for Ferlendi, which has made a great sensation here; Ramm makes it his cheval de bataille. Afterwards Mdlle. Weber sang De Amicis' aria di bravura quite "NON SÒ D' ONDE VIENE." charmingly. Then I played my old concerto in D (175 K.), because it is such a favourite here; then I improvised for half an hour, and afterwards Mdlle. Weber sang with great applause "Parto m' affretto" ("Lucio Silla," 135 K.). My overture to the "Re Pastore" was the finale.

He had the satisfaction of hearing from Raaff, "who certainly never flatters," when asked his true opinion: "She sang like a professor, not like a learner." As an expression of his feelings for Aloysia, Wolfgang composed the song (294 K.) which comes more direct from his heart than any other of his compositions (February 28, 1778):—

I have taken the aria, "Non sÒ d'onde viene," &c., as an exercise in composition, just because it has been so beautifully done by Bach, and because I know and admire his rendering so much that it is always in my ears; I wanted to try whether, in spite of this, I could not write a song which should not be like Bach's. It is not at all, not in the least like. I intended the song for Raaff at first, but the beginning was too high, and it pleased me too much to be altered; besides, the instrumentation seemed to make it more fitted for a soprano. I therefore decided to write the song for Mdlle. Weber. I laid it aside, and set to work on "Se al labro" for Raaff. But it was of no use, I could write nothing else while the first song was in my head. So I finished it, and set myself to make it exactly suited to Mdlle. Weber. It is an andante sostenuto, following a short recitative. In the middle comes the second part, "Nel seno a destarmi;" then again the sostenuto. When it was finished, I said to Mdlle. Weber, "Learn the song for yourself; sing it according to your own taste; then let me hear it, and I will tell you candidly what pleases me and what does not please me." In two days she sang it to me, and accompanied herself. I was obliged to acknowledge that she sang it as well as I could wish, and just as I would have had it done. It is the best song which she has, and will gain her applause wherever she sings it.

This assertion was justified at a concert given by Cannabich, at which Rose Cannabich, Mdlle. Weber, and Mdlle. Pierron Serrarius, after three rehearsals, played the concerto for three claviers very well:—

Mdlle. Weber sang two of my songs, "Aer tranquillo," from the "Re Pastore," (208 K.), and the new one, "Non sÖ d'onde viene." The dear creature did herself and me infinite honour. Every one said that she surpassed herself in this song; she sang it just as it should be sung. Cannabich called out aloud when it was finished, "Bravo, bravissimo, maestro! veramente, scritta da maestro! This was the first time MANNHEIM. I had heard it with the instruments. I wish you could have heard it as it was sung then, with such accuracy of taste, such piano and forte. Who knows? you may hear it yet. I hope so. The orchestra have not left off yet praising and talking of the song.

And he himself cannot leave off talking of it:—

I do certainly wish you could hear my new song sung by her; I say by her, for it is just made for her. You, who know what is meant by singing with portamento, would find rare satisfaction in her singing of it.

He proceeds to beg his father not to allow the song (which he sends him) to be sung by any one else, since it was written only for Mdlle. Weber, and fits her like a garment.

In truth this song is very beautiful, the simple and natural expression of what he felt and wished to imply to the singer, original in form and treatment. Strikingly original are the short violin passages between the phrases of the recitative. The chief movement is adagio, cantabile throughout, in its calm steady progress beautifully expressive of alternate doubt and resolution. A very effective contrast is formed by the animated allegro agitato, which leads back to the adagio in an unexpected but charming manner; the adagio is not simply repeated, but the important points are accentuated, partly by the harmonic treatment, partly by stronger emphasis, and the grouping and connection are varied. The loving care of the composer is displayed again in his management of the orchestra. The stringed instruments are accurate in detail, and written with a view to effect; for instance, when the voice in its highest, sharpest tones, is accompanied by the violins in a far lower position, the effect is excellent. The second violin part is well thought out, and the accompaniment rich without being overpowering. As wind instruments, the flutes, clarinets, horns and bassoons, are' so combined as to give intensity and brilliancy to the colouring of the whole; they are employed with a full mastery of effect, either alone or in varied combination.

The following is the original situation in Metastasio's "Olimpiade." Clisthenes, King of Sicyon, has doomed to death an unknown youth (as afterwards appears, his son), SONG FOR AL. WEBER, 1778. because he has attempted to assassinate him. But in the act of delivering him to death, he feels himself wonderfully moved by the aspect of the youth, and turns to his confidant with the words:—

Alcandro, lo confesso, stupisco di me stesso. Il volto, il ciglio, la voce di costui nel cor mi desta un palpito improwiso, che lo risente in ogni fibra il sangue. Fra tutti i miei pensieri la cagion ne ricerco e non la trovo. Che sarÀ, giusti Dei, questo ch' io provo?

Mozart describes graphically how the voice and singing of Mdlle. Weber floated before him, and inspired his composition, but he does not tell us how Metastasio's words, released from their dramatic connection, became the soliloquy of a young heart, feeling with amazement the first stirrings ot love, and scarcely venturing to realise the depth and intensity of its passion; for pity is assuredly not enough to excite such expressions of emotion. This was the condition of his own heart, and what he felt himself, that he also placed in the heart of his beloved, and, being an artist, on her lips—certainly without analysing his feelings or hers. The song expresses purely and beautifully the emotions of a maiden who stands in doubt and perplexity at the innocent impulses of her heart, incomprehensible even to herself. But her budding inclination has not yet become a dominant passion, and she feels that she stands at the turning-point of her whole existence. There reposes, therefore, on the whole song the calmness and purity of innocence, together with intense warmth and deep agitation, and Mozart has lent to these emotions the inexpressible charm of melody.

The charm is not broken by the occurrence of sharper discords than are usual with Mozart; but they are both MANNHEIM. appropriately placed, and in full harmony with the tone of the whole.

The song gives a favourable indication of the powers of the singer. The style is simple and sustained throughout, varied by original and expressive embellishments, and at the close by a couple of quick runs going up to—[See Page Image]

It excites no small astonishment to find such capabilities of voice, execution, and delivery in a girl of fifteen. Mozart composed the same song again for the bass singer Fischer, in March, 1787 (512 K.). The construction of the song is, as the words require, the same, but the treatment is as different as possible. This time the true sense of the dramatic situation is grasped; a man, a ruler, who has a long life's experience behind him, feels his strong mind moved to a tenderness which he cannot understand, and which therefore troubles him; he seeks to resist it, but falls ever again under its irresistible sway. The sense of surprise and passionate resistance is powerfully rendered, and many passages—"Quel gel che scorrendo le vene mi vÀ," for instance—are of wonderful power and beauty. In fact, the song presupposes the union of strength and softness, flexibility of voice and cultivated delivery, which existed to perfection in Fischer; it might be said as truly of him as of Mdlle. Weber, that the song fitted him like a garment.

Mozart's change of determination with regard to the Parisian journey is easily explained by the light of his love for Mdlle. Weber, although he was far from acknowledging this, even to himself. No doubt he was sincere in writing to his father (February 4, 1778): "It is out of the question for me to travel with a man who leads a life of which the youngest among us would be ashamed, and the thought of assisting a poor family, without doing harm to myself, pleases me to the very depths of my soul." He longed ardently to liberate the Weber family from their trying position; but love for his Aloysia was the most powerful, although the secret motive. The direction of his thoughts MOZART AND THE WEBERS. may be gathered from his remarks on the wealthy marriage made by his friend Herr von Schiedenhofen (February 7, 1778):—

It is a mercenary marriage, and nothing further. I would not marry in that way; I should like to make my wife happy, and not expect to make my fortune through her. So I will let it alone for the present, and enjoy my freedom, until I can afford to support a wife and family. It was necessary for Herr von Schiedenhofen to choose a rich wife for the sake of his title. The nobility can never marry from inclination or love, but only from interest and various considerations; it would not become such high personages to love their wives when once they have brought into the world a fat little son and heir. But we poor common folk, not only may we take a wife whom we love, and who loves us, but we ought, can, and will take such an one; for we are not nobly born, aristocratic, or rich, but lowly, mean, and poor, and so not needing a rich wife; our wealth dies with us, for it is in our brains—and no one can take it from us, unless he cut off our head—and then we should not want anything more.

The father must have shaken his head at this diatribe. Wolfgang's wish at least to live in the neighbourhood of Aloysia, until he could call her his own, was joined to his irresistible impulse to compose operas. In order to attain both these ends he had conceived a project which would, he supposed, be of equal advantage to her family and his own. The Webers were quite ready to fall in with what was clearly to their advantage, and it only remained to obtain the consent of Wolfgang's father to his remaining in Mannheim and completing the compositions he had undertaken:—

At the same time Herr Weber will be exerting himself to get concert engagements for himself and me; we shall travel together, too. Travelling with him will be just the same as travelling with you. In fact, the reason I like him so much is that, excepting in appearance, he resembles you entirely; his temper and turn of mind are identical with yours. If my mother were not, as you know, averse to much writing, she would say the same thing. I must acknowledge that I enjoyed travelling with the Webers; we were happy together, and merry; and I had the satisfaction of conversing with a man like yourself. I had no need to trouble myself about anything; if anything was torn I found it mended; in fact, I was treated like a prince. This oppressed family has become so dear to me that it is my greatest wish to make them happy—which is perhaps in my power. My advice is that they should go to Italy. You would be doing me a great favour if you would write as soon as possible to our MANNHEIM. good friend Lugiati (p. 108), and inquire from him what is the highest sum paid to a prima donna in Verona—the higher the better, for it is easy to lower one's terms—and perhaps she could get a better engagement afterwards in Venice. I will stake my life on her singing, and I know that she does me honour. She has profited much by my instruction, even in this short time, and I have not much doubt as to her acting powers.

If all this takes place, we—that is, M. Weber, his two daughters and I—shall have the honour of paying a passing visit in a fortnight or so, to my dear father and my dear sister, and my sister will find a friend and companion; she enjoys the same reputation here on account of her good bringing up as my sister does in Salzburg; her father is respected as mine is; and the whole family is like the Mozart family. This arouses envy in the same way, of course; but when it comes to the point the most envious are obliged to speak the truth; honesty is the best policy. I cannot tell you how pleased I should be to bring them to Salsburg, only that you might hear her.

She sings my songs written for De Amicis—the bravura songs, as well as "Parto m' affretto" and "Dalla sponda tenebrosa"—quite superbly. I beg that you will do your best to help us to go to Italy; you know my greatest ambition—to write operas. I would gladly write an opera for thirty sequins at Verona, that she might gain reputation by it; for if I had not written it I fear she would be sacrificed. In the meantime I shall make so much money by the expeditions I shall make with them that I shall not be in any way injured. I think we shall go to Switzerland, perhaps also to Holland; write to me soon about it. If it all comes to pass, the other daughter, who is the elder, will be very useful, for she cooks well, and we can keep house for ourselves. I only beg you not to delay answering me. Do not forget my wish to write operas! I am jealous of every one who writes one; I could weep for vexation when I hear or see an aria. But Italian, not German; seria, not buffa!

Now I have laid open my whole heart to you, and my mother is quite of my way of thinking. I kiss your hand a thousand times, and am, till death, your obedient son.

In a later letter he repeats his pressing request (February 14, 1778):—

I earnestly entreat you to do what you can for Weber; I have his success very much at heart; a man and his wife, five children, and an income of 450 florins! Remember my request as to Italy, and also about myself; you know my ambition and my passion. I hope it will all go right; I put my trust in God, and He will not forsake us. Now farewell, and do not forget my earnest petition and recommendation.

Wolfgang's mother was not quite so much of his opinion as he imagined; this is apparent from her postscript, which shows also that she was entirely without influence over her son:—

PATERNAL WARNINGS.

My dear Husband,—You will perceive from this letter that when Wolfgang makes a new friendship he is ready to sacrifice his life and all he holds dear for the object of it. It is true that she sings divinely, but one should never so entirely set aside one's own interests. I have never approved of the companionship with Wendling and Ramm, but I dared not make any objection, and I am never listened to. But as soon as he knew the Webers, he altered his mind altogether. In fact, he prefers being with other people to being with me; I object to this thing and that which does not please me, and that annoys him. So you must decide for yourself what is to be done. I write this in the greatest secrecy while he is dining.

And what said the father? This letter was a greater blow than any which had yet befallen him, and Wolfgang's romantic project almost bereft him of reason. He did not indeed doubt that "much persuasion had been brought to bear on Wolfgang, to induce him to prefer a vagabond life to the fame which could be acquired in a city so celebrated, and so ready to welcome true talent, as Mannheim"; but he was horrified to find that the influence of strangers could so deprive him of consideration for himself and others. "Your kind heart leads you to see no fault in any man who praises you loudly and exalts you to the skies, and to bestow all your love and confidence on him; when you were a child, on the contrary, your modesty was so excessive that you wept when you were openly praised." Sharp remedies seemed in this case necessary, and these L. Mozart applies with all the authority of an experienced man, and the severity of a conscientious father. He lays before his son in an exhaustive letter how far he has hitherto been from attaining the main object of his journey, and how much he is in danger of forgetting his duty to his family and himself, for the gratification of a senseless passion. It was not difficult to show that the idea was immature and impracticable of producing a young girl, who had never sung in public, nor appeared on the stage, before an Italian public, which would be certain to condemn her even if she sang like Gabrielli herself. L. Mozart goes on to show how, with war threatening, the present was not the time for a professional tour, and how a wandering life with a stranger and his daughters would deprive him of his reputation, ruin his MANNHEIM. prospects, and bring disgrace on his family: "It lies now in your own power alone to raise yourself to as high a position as a musician has ever attained; you owe all to the extraordinary talent bestowed upon you by the all-gracious God, and it depends upon your own sense and behaviour whether you become an ordinary musician, forgotten by the world, or a celebrated kapellmeister whose fame shall be handed down to posterity in books—whether you herd all together in a room full of squalling brats, on a heap of straw, or spend a Christian life, full of honour, pleasure and profit, and die respected by all the world, leaving your family well provided for."

L. Mozart felt that immediate action was necessary; all his former objection to the journey to Paris vanished before the necessity of extricating his son from his present dangerous entanglement. "Away with you to Paris, and that soon!" he cried. "Put yourself at the side of great men—aut Cosar aut nihil! The mere thought of seeing Paris should have preserved you from all passing distractions. The name and fame of a man of great talent goes through all the world from Paris." The company of Wendling and Ramm was not as important to him as his was to them. But his mother must go with him in order to arrange everything properly; they were not to limit their stay to a few months, but were to remain as long as was necessary to gain renown and money; the more so since Paris was the safest place to live in during war. Hard as it was upon him, the father undertook to provide money and letters of credit for the journey.

In making this appeal to the conscience, the ambition, and the better judgment of his son, L. Mozart was wise enough not to allude directly to his attachment to Aloysia Weber, although he must have been well aware of its existence. Wolfgang had not openly expressed it, and his father was careful not to oppose a sentiment which was invincible because inaccessible to reason. But as a proof that he was not indifferent to the misfortunes of those with whom Wolfgang had so much sympathy, he did not withhold the advice for which he had been asked. The man WOLFGANG'S FILIAL SUBMISSION. who could best help them was Raaff; Wolfgang should endeavour to interest him in Mdlle. Weber, and his influence would be all powerful with the impresaii. He further advised that she should make her dÉbut on the Mannheim stage, were it only for the sake of practice.

The effect of this letter was what he anticipated. Wolfgang was brought to a knowledge of the fact that he had nearer duties to fulfil, to which his dreams and aspirations after an uncertain future must give way. He yielded with a heavy heart but with childlike submission to his father's will, and answered (February 19, 1778)

I always anticipated that you would be against the journey with the Webers, for I never seriously entertained the idea myself; that is, under our present circumstances; but I had given my word that I would write to you about it. Herr Weber does not know how we stand; I have told no one; and so because I wanted to be free from care for any one, and to be happy together, I forgot the present impossibility of the affair, and also to inform you of my true opinion of it. What you say concerning Mdlle. Weber is all true; and, as I wrote before, I know as well as you do that she is too young, and wants the power of acting, and should therefore recite in the theatre as often as possible; but one has to proceed cautiously with some people. The good Webers are as tired of being here as some one else you know was elsewhere; and they are inclined to think everything possible. I had promised them to write to my father; but even before my letter had reached Salzburg I had been advising them to be patient, that she was a little too young, &c. They take everything well from me, for they have a high opinion of me. The father has spoken by my advice to Madame Toscani (an actress) about giving his daughter instruction in acting. All that you say of Mdlle. Weber is true, except one thing: that she sings like a Gabrielli; I should be very sorry if she did. Every one who has heard Gabrielli says she was nothing but a passage and roulade maker; in a word, that she sang with art, but no understanding (p. 135). But Mdlle. Weber sings from her heart, and cantabile by preference. I am now making her sing passages in the great arie, because it is necessary if she goes to Italy that she should sing bravura songs; she will not forget her cantabile, because it comes natural to her. 107 Now you know all, and I recommend her to you with my whole heart.

MANNHEIM.

But it was a hard struggle that he had to make with himself; it affected his health, and he was for several days confined to his room. His father's warnings had struck chords in his innermost being, which vibrated painfully; the thought of having forfeited his father's full confidence rendered him inconsolable. "Believe whatever you please of me, only not that I am wicked. There are people who believe it is impossible to love a poor girl without having evil intentions. I am no Brunetti, and no Misliweczeck—I am a Mozart, a young but an honourable Mozart." Gradually, however, his loving trust in his father regained its old supremacy. "'God first, and then papa'; that was my motto as a child, and I am true to it still." He and his mother began to prepare in earnest for their departure, and the father was ready with instructions and good advice, nor did he withhold the paternal blessing from his well-loved son:—

How deeply I feel the wider separation that is about to take place between us you can partly imagine, but I cannot expect you to feel the intensity with which it oppresses me. If you will only reflect seriously on all that I did for you two children in your early years, you will not certainly accuse me of timidity, but you will do me the justice to acknowledge that I am, and always have been, a man with courage to venture anything. At the same time I used all possible prudence and foresight; against accidents no one can provide, for God alone sees into the future. I have not, my dear Wolfgang, the least mistrust in you; on the contrary, I have perfect confidence and hope in your filial love. Everything now depends on the sound understanding which you certainly possess if you will only listen to it, and upon fortunate circumstances; these last are not to be controlled, but I hope and pray that you will always take counsel of your understanding. You are now about to enter a new world, and you must not believe that I am prejudiced in considering Paris so dangerous a place; au contraire, my own experience gives me no cause to think it at all dangerous. But the circumstances of my former and your present stay there are as widely asunder as heaven and earth.

DEPARTURE FROM MANNHEIM, 1778.

After explaining this in more detail, and giving Wolfgang minute directions as to the position he should take in Paris. L. Mozart concludes with the words:—

I know that you look upon me not only as your father, but as your truest and firmest friend; and that you are well aware that our happiness and misery—nay more, my long life or speedy death are, under God, so to speak, in your hands. If I know you aright, I have nothing to look forward to but that pleasure which will be my only consolation in your absence, and I must resign myself to neither seeing, hearing, nor embracing you. Live like a good Catholic Christian; love God and fear Him; pray to Him sincerely and devoutly, and let your conduct be such that should I never see you again, my death-bed may be free from anxiety. From my heart I bless you, and remain till death your loving father and firmest friend.

It was only when Mozart's departure from Mannheim drew very near that the loss on both sides was fully realised. The farewell concerts which he arranged as displays for himself, his compositions, and his pupils, impressed his extraordinary talents on the public mind. Regrets at his departure were heard on all sides, not only from musicians, but from all men of cultivation who had the fame of Mannheim at heart, among them the author of the "Deutsche Hausvater" (March 24, 1778):—

Before leaving Mannheim I made copies for Herr von Gemmingen of the quartet (80 K.) which I wrote that evening in the inn at Lodi; also of the quintet (174 K.), and of the Fischer variations (179 K.). He wrote me an extremely polite note, expressing his pleasure at the remembrance, and sent me a letter to his very good friend, Herr von Sickingen, adding, "I am well assured that you will do more to recommend this letter, than it can possibly do to recommend you." And he sent me three louis-d'or to cover the cost of copying the music. He assured me of his friendship, and begged for mine in return. I must say that all the cavaliers who knew me, the court councillors, chamberlains, court musicians, and other good people, were vexed and disappointed at my leaving. There is no mistake about that.

He was in some degree consoled by the prospect of finding opportunities for composition in Paris (February 28, 1778)

What I chiefly look forward to in Paris is the Concert Spirituel, for which I shall probably have to write something. The orchestra is so good and strong, and my most favourite compositions, choruses, can be MANNHEIM. well performed there; I am very glad that the Parisians are so fond of them. The only fault that was found with Piccinni's new opera "Roland" 108 was that the choruses were weak and poor, and the music altogether a little monotonous; otherwise it was very well received. The Parisians were accustomed to Gluck's choruses. Rely upon me, I shall do all that is in my power to bring honour to the name of Mozart; I am not afraid.

The parting from Mdlle. Weber had still to be gone through; he describes it candidly to his father (March 24, 1778)

Mdlle. Weber very kindly netted me a purse as a remembrance and small acknowledgment of my services. Her father copied all that I wanted for me, and gave me some music-paper and MoliÈre's comedies (which he knew I had not read), with the inscription, "Ricevi, amico, le opere del MoliÈre in segno di gratitudine e qualche volta ricordati di me." When he was alone with mamma, he said, "We are losing our best friend, our benefactor. Yes, there is no doubt that your son has done much for my daughter, and has interested himself in her so that she cannot be grateful enough to him." The day before I left they wanted me to sup with them, but I could not be away from home, so refused. But I was obliged to spend a couple of hours before supper with them, and they never left off thanking me, and wishing they were in a position to testify their gratitude. When at last I went away they all wept. It is very foolish, but the tears come in my eyes whenever I think of it. He went down the steps with me, and stood at the house-door till I had turned the corner, when he called for the last time, "Adieu!"

This time the father painted no leave-taking on the quoits, but thanked God in his heart that his son had escaped a great danger. Wolfgang did not openly declare that his love for Mdlle. Weber was heartfelt and sincere, and that he believed it to be returned, that he went forth with the full determination of winning a position, and being able to call her his own; but he was little careful to conceal these hopes from his father 109 as to hide from him the correspondence which he carried on with the Webers. The father, with LOVE OF FATHER AND SON. full confidence in the honourable character of his son, was content to leave this connection to the future so soon as he saw the first step assured in Wolfgang's professional career.

Our glance must needs linger with approbation on the picture of a youth glowing with ardent passion, yet with self-mastery enough to listen to the first warning of his good and wise father, and so sure of the constancy of his feelings as to be willing to yield his warmest wishes to the fulfilment of his moral duties. In the love and confidence existing between father and son we rejoice to acknowledge the best and truest ornament of a German artist-life.