IT has often been pointed out that Mozart wrote the "EntfÜhrung" as an accepted lover; and many analogies have been drawn THE WEBERS. between his own love affairs and those represented in the opera, with the view of accounting for the depth and truth of his expression of the tenderest of passions. It is true that Mozart could not have rendered love so truly without having felt it in its full intensity. But if we stop to realise the difficulties and vexations with which Mozart had to struggle as a lover, we shall rather wonder that he could compose at all under such circumstances, and the EntfÜhrung" becomes a striking proof that creative genius sets the artist free from the pressure of life, and raises him into the region of beauty in which true art is begotten.

We have already seen the relief it was to Mozart, when obliged to quit the house of the Archbishop, to find a lodging with Madame Weber, his old Mannheim friend. After Aloysia's marriage to the actor Lange, the mother lived in somewhat reduced circumstances with her other three daughters, and was glad to let her spare rooms; it was a comfort to Mozart to be relieved by friendly hands of the little housekeeping cares which he was ill-fitted to attend to himself. But his father was averse to the arrangement; he feared that the Webers would make a tool of him, as they had, in his opinion, in Mannheim. He was not at all satisfied with Wolfgang's reassurances on the subject, and pressed him to take another lodging; Wolfgang declared himself quite willing if he could find one equally comfortable. As this did not seem likely, and a report reached Salzburg that Mozart was engaged to be married to one of Madame Weber's daughters, his father insisted on compliance with his desire. Wolfgang answered (July 25, 1781):—

I repeat that I have long wished to take another lodging, if only to stop people's chatter; and it annoys me to have to do it for the sake of COURTSHIP. absurd gossip, in which there is not a word of truth. I should like to know what pleasure it can be to certain people to spread such baseless reports. Because I am living with the family I must, forsooth, marry the daughter! There is no talk of affection—they jump over all that; I simply go to the house, and then get married. If ever in my life I was far from thinking of marriage, it is at this moment. I wish for nothing less than a rich wife; and even if I could make a good marriage now I must perforce wait, for I have other things in my head. God has not given me my talent that I might cripple it with a wife, and waste my prime in inactivity. Shall I embitter my life at its very opening? I have nothing to say against matrimony, but for me at present it would be an unmitigated evil. Well, if there is no other way, false as it all is, I must avoid even the appearance of it, although the appearance has no foundation except my lodging in the house. No one who does not live in the house can imagine how very little intercourse I have with them; for the children seldom go out—never except to the play—and I cannot accompany them because I am seldom at home at that hour. We have been on the Prater once or twice, but the mother was with us; being in the house I could not avoid going, and I heard no such foolish gossip then. I must tell you, too, that I paid only my own share; 1 and the mother, having become aware of the gossip from others as well as from myself, objects to our going anywhere together again, and has herself advised me to move my quarters to avoid further annoyance, for she says she would not willingly injure me, however innocently. This is my only reason for leaving, and this is no valid reason; but people's mouths must be stopped. It would not be difficult to find a better room, but very difficult to meet with such kind and obliging people. I will not say that I am uncivil and never speak to the young lady to whom report has wedded me, but I am not in love with her; I chat and joke with her when I have time—that is in the evenings, when I sup at home; in the morning I write in my own room, and in the afternoon I am nearly always out—and so that is really all about it. If I am to marry all the girls I have made fun with, I shall have at least a hundred wives. Now farewell, my dear father, and trust your son, who has really the best intentions towards all honest people! Trust him, and believe him sooner than certain people who have nothing better to do than to calumniate honest folk.

An unfinished allegro to a clavier sonata (400 K.) remains as a curious and amusing instance of the influence exerted on a composer by his immediate surroundings. After a very THE MESSMERS—RIGHINI. cheerful first part, a plaintive tone is struck in the second, and a very strongly accentuated musical dialogue occurs. The names of the two sisters Weber are written against the characterising phrases of the music:—[See Page Image]

The Messmer family had offered Mozart apartments in their house in the suburbs, but he could not make up his mind to accept the offer: "The house is not what it was," he writes to his sister (December 15, 1781). Messmer had staying with him at the time Vine. Righini (1756-1812), formerly an opera-buffa singer and then a composer; they were on very intimate terms, and Madame Messmer was especially friendly to Righini. The latter, as Mozart informs his father in answer to his inquiries, makes a great deal of money by giving lessons, and his cantata (probably "Il Natale d' Apollo") had been given twice during Lent with great success. "He writes prettily; is not superficial, but a great thief. He gives back his stolen goods so unblushingly and in such overflowing abundance that people can hardly digest them" (August 29, 1781). 2

Another musical family would have been glad to receive him as an inmate, and his father appears to have been not unwilling that he should form a closer connection in this case. Wolfgang had been introduced to Herr Aurnhammer, whose "fat lady-daughter" Josephine was considered one of the first clavier-players of the day. They received him kindly, and often invited him, as he informs his father (June 27, 1781): "I dine almost daily with Herr Aurnhammer; the young lady is a horror—but she plays divinely; she seems COURTSHIP. to lose her really refined taste in singing, however, and drags everything." 3

It would have been convenient to them that Mozart should be in their immediate neighbourhood. But he was far from satisfied with the quarters which they offered him; it was a room "for rats and mice, but not for human beings. The stairs need a lantern to light them at noonday; and the room might be called a cell. The wife herself called the house a rat's nest—in fact it was really dreadful." Nor did he feel any inclination for closer intercourse with this family, whose motives in wishing for him he believed that he saw through. Seeing that his father had set his mind upon his going, he felt constrained to set the two sides of the question before him. The description which follows is somewhat "schlimm" certainly, but too characteristic of the writer to be omitted:—

He is the best-natured man in the world; too much so, indeed, for his wife—a stupid, silly chatterer—has quite the upper hand, so that when she speaks he has not a word to say. Whenever we go for a walk together he begs me not to mention in his wife's presence that we took a fiacre or drank some beer. Now I cannot possibly have confidence in such a man. He is a good fellow and my very good friend, and I can dine with him when I please, but I am not used to be paid for my civilities; indeed a dinner would scarcely be fitting payment, but people like these think so much of what they do. I will not attempt to describe the mother to you; one has enough to do at table to refrain from laughing at her. You know Frau Adlgasser? This creature is worse, for she is ill-natured as well as stupid. As for the daughter, if a painter wanted a model for the evil one he might have recourse to her face. She is as fat as a peasant-girl, and once seeing her is enough to make one wretched for the whole day. Pfui Teufel!

I wrote to you how she plays the clavier, and why she begged me to assist her. 4 She is not content that I should pass two hours every day JOSEPHINE AURNHAMMER. with her, she would like me to spend the whole day there, and then she makes herself agreeable! or rather, worse than that, she is seriously in love with me. I thought it was a joke, but I know it for certain now. When I first observed it (for she took liberties, reproaching me for coming later than usual, or not staying long enough, and other such things) I felt constrained to tell her the truth politely, for fear she should make a fool of herself. But it was of no use, she became more deeply in love. Then I tried being very polite until she began her nonsense, when I turned cross. Then she took me by the hand and said, "Dear Mozart, do not be so angry, and you may say what you like, I am so fond of you." It was the talk of the whole town that we were going to be married, and people wondered at my choice. She told me that when anything of the kind was said to her, she laughed at it; but I know from a certain person that she acknowledged it, with the addition that we should set out on our travels together as soon as we were married. That made me really angry. I gave her my true opinion on the subject, and reproached her with abusing my kindness. I have left off going there every day, and only go every other day, so as to break it off by degrees. She is an infatuated fool. Before she knew me, she said when she heard me at the theatre, "He is coming to me to-morrow, and I shall play him his variations in the same style." For this very reason I did not go. It was a conceited speech, and an untrue one, for I had had no intention of going there the following day.

All this did not prevent Mozart from assisting Fraulein Aurnhammer in his usual amiable manner. At a concert at Aurnhammer's (November 24, 1781) he played the Concerto a due (365 K.) with her, and a sonata which was composed expressly, and "went remarkably well" (381 K.).

A few months later he played a duet with her at one of his own concerts (May 25,1782), and postponed a journey to Salzburg because he had promised to play at her concert in the theatre (October 26, 1782). He also dedicated to her the sonatas for piano and violin which appeared in 1781 (376-380 K.).

In September he actually found a new lodging, but he was far from comfortable there; "it was like travelling in a post-chaise instead of one's own carriage." He had made COURTSHIP. the sacrifice for his father's sake, and he now took occasion to beg the latter not to listen to gossip, but to believe that he meant "to remain the same honest fellow as ever" (September 5, 1781). But the discomfort of his domestic circumstances in the midst of incessant work only increased his desire to set up an establishment of his own. The gossip of the town and his father's exhortations had produced a contrary effect to that intended, and his liking for Constanze Weber grew more decided day by day. He felt persuaded that she would make him happy, and, since she returned his affection, they became betrothed lovers. He could not disguise from himself that his father would certainly disapprove of this step, and he laid before him with great candour all that had led to it. After setting forth his prospects of an assured position, and the steps which he had taken towards obtaining it, he continues (December 15, 1781):—

My desire is to have something certain to fall back upon, and then one can live very well on chance here—and to get married. Nature speaks as loud in me as in any other, perhaps louder than in a great heavy blockhead. I have no inclination to live like most young men of the present day. In the first place I have too much love for religion, and in the second too much love for my neighbour, and too much good feeling to lead astray an innocent girl. I can take my oath I have never done so. But I know that this reason, strong as it is, is not elevated enough. But my temperament, which is inclined for a quiet domestic life —my want of habit of attending to my clothing, washing, and other such things—make a wife indispensable to me. I am quite persuaded that I could live better on the same income with a wife than as I am now. And how many unnecessary expenses would be done away with, others would arise; but one knows them and can calculate on them—in fact, one leads a regular life. An unmarried man only half lives, in my opinion. That is my opinion—I cannot help it; I have reflected and considered enough, and have quite made up my mind. But who, you will ask, is the object of my love? Do not be horrified, I beg. What! not a Weber! Yes, a Weber; not Josepha, nor Sophia, but Constanze, the middle one. I have never seen such dissimilarity of mind in any family as in this. The eldest, Josepha, is lazy and cross; Aloysia Lange is a false, unprincipled woman and a coquette; the youngest, Sophie, is too young to be anything yet but the good thoughtless creature she is. God keep her from temptation! But the middle one, my dear good Constanze, is the martyr of the family, and on that very account, perhaps, the best-natured, the cleverest—in a word, the best of them all. She looks after everything in the house, and yet can never BETROTHAL WITH CONSTANZE WEBER. do right. She is not ugly, but she is far from being beautiful. Her whole beauty consists in her dark eyes and good figure. She is not intellectual, but has common sense enough to fulfil her duties as a wife and mother. She is not inclined to extravagance, that is quite untrue; on the contrary, she is always badly dressed, for the little her mother can do is done for the two others, never for her. True, she likes to be neat and clean, but not smart; and almost all that a woman needs she can make for herself; she understands housekeeping, has the best heart in the world—she loves me and I love her—tell me if I could wish for a better wife? I must tell you that when I wrote before love was not there, but was born of her tender care and attention when I was living in the house. My earnest wish now is to get something settled to do (of which, God be praised, I have great hope), and I shall then hasten to beg your permission to rescue my poor darling, and make her and myself—indeed, I may say, all of us—happy, for does not my being happy render you so?

This confirmation of the news which had already reached him from other quarters was a heavy blow to L. Mozart. The perspective of "dying on a sack of straw in a room full of starving brats" which he had once before held out to his son (Vol. I., p. 426) opened itself to him anew; marriage without a certain and sufficient income was, in his opinion, and knowing his son as he did, the first step to certain ruin. And then the Weber family! The description which Wolf-gang gave of them was not calculated to inspire confidence; if he had been so completely deceived in Aloysia, who could answer for his better judgment with respect to Constanze? But his father knew more than he had learnt from Wolfgang; he knew that the latter had given a written promise of marriage, and, from all the communications he received, he could not but believe that both mother and daughter had been playing upon the young man's inexperience and sense of honour to entice him into their net. L. Mozart sought by every means in his power to influence his son; he demanded information as to the written agreement, that he might be satisfied that it did not exist, and that Wolfgang was bound only by his word. But Wolfgang showed himself firmer and more independent at this juncture than ever before; he had made up his mind, and it was not to be shaken.

He did not hesitate to explain the circumstances of the COURTSHIP. marriage contract (December 22, 1781). After the death of their father, the Weber children had been placed under the guardianship of Johann Thorwarth, court manager and inspector of the theatrical wardrobe, a man of considerable influence in matters theatrical, and well thought of by Count Rosenberg and Baron Kienmayer—"a sworn enemy of the Italians." 5 This man had been prejudiced against Mozart by calumniators, who represented that he had no certain income, and that he did not mean honestly by Constanze; this so disturbed the mother that she did not rest until she had induced Mozart to request an interview with the guardian. The interview took place, but the guardian was so little satisfied that he insisted on all intercourse with Mozart being broken off unless he would agree to a written contract. Madame Weber declared that this could not be; that all the intercourse consisted in Mozart's coming daily to their house, and that she could not possibly put a stop to it, seeing that she was under much obligation to him as a friend, and that she placed every confidence in his truth and honour; if the guardian thought such a step necessary, he must undertake it himself. Hereupon Thorwarth prohibited all intercourse unless Mozart would give a written agreement. He must make his choice. Having no intention of giving up Constanze or affording ground for suspicion to her friends, he signed an agreement by virtue of which he bound himself to espouse Mdlle. Constanze Weber within three years, or "in case of such an impossibility as his changing his mind," he was to pay her three hundred florins a year. He assured his father that there was no sort of risk in this, as he was finally resolved never to forsake her; but if such an unheard-of event were to occur, he would think himself easily bought off with three hundred florins; besides that his Constanze would, he knew, be far too proud to accept a price. "And what did the devoted girl do?" he continues; "as soon as the guardian had gone, she took the agreement from her mother, tore it up, and said: 'Dear Mozart, I need no written assurance SLANDEROUS REPORTS IN SALZBURG. from you; I can believe your simple word!'" It was thought best by them all to keep this transaction secret; but it gradually oozed out, until all Vienna knew of it. It might be wrong, and this part of the affair was blameable—thus much he acknowledged to his father; but neither the guardian nor the mother deserved to be branded as misleaders of youthful innocence; it was a falsehood that they had made him free of the house and then bound him in spite of himself—it was quite the contrary, and he would have known better than to give in to such conduct.

His indignation was raised to the highest pitch when he heard from his father that the most disgraceful falsehoods as to his dealings with Constanze had reached Salzburg by way of Munich, and were attributable to "that scoundrel" Winter, who had always hated him on Vogler's account. 6 Winter had been staying in Vienna with the bassoonist Reiner, and Mozart had sought him out as an old acquaintance. It was all the more infamous, since this very Winter, who "deserved the name neither of a man nor a human being," and to whose "infamous lies" Mozart would not condescend to oppose "infamous truths," had once said to him: "You will be foolish to marry; you can earn enough—why should you not keep a mistress? What prevents you? Is it your d——d religion?" (December 22, 1781).

But against such calumnies he was powerless. "My maxim is," he says (January 9, 1782), "that what does not concern me is not worth the trouble of talking about; I am ashamed to defend myself from false accusations, for I always think that the truth is sure to come to light." He therefore refused to stir in the matter, and left free course to all the falsehood and misrepresentation.

COURTSHIP.

L. Mozart was naturally not much reassured by this explanation. He called his son's attention to Madame Weber's failings, which rendered a good education of her daughters very unlikely, and Wolfgang could not deny (April 10, 1782) that "she is fond of drink, and takes more than a woman should. But I have never seen her intoxicated; I can quite deny that. The children drink nothing but water." His father further pointed out that she would certainly be a burden on him after his marriage, and that she made no secret of her intentions in this respect. Wolfgang could not but perceive for himself that the mother was seeking her own advantage in the marriage of her daughter (January 30, 1782), "but she will find herself very much mistaken. She wished us (when we were married) to lodge with her—but that will come to nothing, for I would never agree to it, and Constanze still less. Au contraire, she intends to see very little of her mother, and I shall do my utmost to prevent it—we know her." But Wolfgang was deeply wounded at his father's depreciation of Constanze herself (January 30,1782):—

Only one thing more (and without saying it I could not sleep quietly) —do not ascribe such motives to my dear Constanze; believe me, I could not love her as I do if she deserved your censure. My dear, good father, I only wish that we may soon meet; for that you will love her, as you love all true hearts, I know for certain.

He remained proof against all his father's remonstrances (January 9, 1782):—

I cannot be happy without my beloved Constanze, and I should be only half happy without your consent; make me quite happy then, my dearest, best of fathers!

He confided to his sister (whom he had befriended in her own need) what he and Constanze had to suffer from her mother's temper. He used to work until nine o'clock in the evening, he writes (February 13, 1782):—

And then I go to my beloved Constanze; but our pleasure in being together is often embittered by her mother's angry tongue, as I shall explain to my father in my next letter, and make it the ground of my wish to liberate and rescue her as soon as possible. I go home at half-past ten or eleven; it depends upon her mother's powers of holding out, or mine of resisting.

HOPES OF MARRIAGE.

Constanze, at Wolfgang's instigation, sought to gain his sister's affection by many little acts of attention; she sent her caps made by herself after the latest Vienna fashion, and on another occasion a little cross of no great value, but of a kind very much worn in Vienna; and again, a heart with an arrow that Wolfgang thought particularly appropriate to his sister (March 23, 1782). She "took courage at last" in a letter (April 20,1782), "to petition for her friendship as sister of her very worthy brother;" she felt that "she half deserved it already, and would try to deserve it altogether," as well as to gain the good opinion of the father of them both. Both the lovers were delighted at the favourable reception of these overtures, although the father's views were not thereby anywise altered. He was especially against any idea of marriage before Wolfgang had some secure means of livelihood, and in spite of many attempts and tedious negotiations there did not seem much likelihood of this at present. "If I could only have it in writing from 'der liebe Gott," he writes to his father (January 23, 1782), "that I should continue in good health and never be ill, oh, would I not marry my dear, faithful sweetheart this very day!" His three pupils brought him eighteen ducats a month; if he could only get one more it would make 102 florins 24 kreutzers, on which he and his wife could maintain themselves "quietly and plainly, as we wish to live." In case of sickness, indeed, his income would cease altogether; but he could write an opera once a year, give a concert, publish some compositions, or raise subscriptions for them; accidents could not always be taken into account. "But," he concludes, "if we cannot succeed we must just fail, and I would rather we did so together than wait any longer. I cannot be worse off—things must improve with me. My reasons for not waiting any longer are not so much on my own account, as on hers. I must release her as soon as possible." The father did not grant the urgent necessity, and seeing in Wolfgang's calculations on the possibilities of an uncertain future a sure proof that he had not yet learnt what the foundation of a well-ordered household should be, he persisted in his refusal to consent to an immediate marriage.

COURTSHIP.

Difficult as Mozart's position was rendered by the displeasure of his father and the ill-temper of Frau Weber, his beloved Constanze herself did not always improve matters; the violence of her feelings sometimes put his constancy to the trial, and added to his perplexities. The lovers' quarrels soon blew over, but Mozart's position became daily more insupportable as his affairs became known and talked of. Even the Emperor, who felt a warm interest in the family affairs of the artists who had access to him, 7 had expressed himself graciously as to Mozart's marriage when the latter played before him with Clementi; his condescension raised hopes which were not destined to be fulfilled.

When the success of his opera had directed public attention towards him, the curiosity as to his relations with Constanze became still more general. "What are we to do?" he writes mournfully to his father (July 27, 1782). "Most people believe that we are married already: the mother is wild about it, and the poor girl and myself are tormented to death." The earnest tone of mind in which he passed through this time of trial is illustrated in a later letter to his father (August 17, 1782), where he says that he has long since heard mass and confessed with Constanze, "and I found that I never prayed so heartily or confessed and communicated so devoutly as by her side. She felt the same, and it would really seem that we are made for each other, and that God, who orders all things, has ordained our union also, and will not forsake us."

At this juncture a distinguished musical patroness espoused the cause of the lovers. The Baroness von WaldstÄdten, famous as a clavier-player as early as the year 1766, 8 was one of the ladies who had taken Mozart under their protection from his first arrival, and interesting herself, womanlike, as much in his affairs of the heart as in his musical performances, she sought by every means in her power to bring his relations with Constanze to a happy

FRIENDSHIP OF THE BARONESS V. WALDSTÄDTEN

conclusion. In order to withdraw Constanze from the tyranny of her mother, and to facilitate Wolfgang's intercourse with his betrothed, she took the latter more than once for a considerable time into her own house in the Leopold Strasse. There were, indeed, reasons which rendered this intimacy undesirable. The Baroness had led an unhappy life, and sought to indemnify herself for it by indulgence in the frivolous habits then only too frequent among the higher ranks of society; her reputation was not of the best. Mozart knew this, as all Vienna knew it; he had reason to dread the influence of such a friendship for Constanze, but he was convinced that the Baroness meant well by them both, and he felt that he had no resource but to accept her help, and to be very grateful for it. But Constanze's mother had at least some show of right in forbidding her daughter to continue in communication with the Baroness, and, fearful lest she should be taken altogether out of her power, she endeavoured to force her to return home. An undated letter, addressed in great tribulation to the Baroness, gives us full insight into Mozart's trying circumstances:—

Most honoured Baroness,—I received my music by the hands of Madame Weber's maid, and was obliged to give a written receipt for it. The servant confided to me what, if true, is a lasting disgrace to the whole family; I can only believe it from my knowledge of Madame Weber's character, and it afflicts me greatly. Sophie had come out weeping, and when her maid asked her the cause of her tears, she said: "Tell Mozart in secret that Constanze had better return home, for my mother insists upon sending the police for her." But surely the police would not dare thus to enter any house. Perhaps it is only a ruse to get her home again. If this threat is really fulfilled, I see nothing for it but to marry my Constanze early to-morrow, or, if it can be done, to-day; for I would not allow of this affront to my beloved, and it could not happen to my wife. Another thing: Thorwarth was appointed to his place to-day. I beg your ladyship to give me your kind advice, and to render us poor creatures all the assistance you can. I am always at home. In the greatest haste. Constanze knows nothing of all this. Has Herr von Thorwarth waited on your ladyship already? Is it necessary that we should both go to him after dinner to-day?

Under these circumstances Mozart was ready to espouse his Constanze without a moment's delay; he reiterates his entreaties for his father's consent (July 31, 1782):—

COURTSHIP.

You will have received my last letter by this time, and I have no doubt that your next will bring your consent to our union. You can have nothing really to object to in it, and your letters show that you have not; for she is a good honest girl, and I am in a position to provide her with bread. We love each other and wish for each other, so there is no reason for delay.

But his father still withheld his consent. He was so deeply affected by the affair that he scarcely took proper interest in the success of the "EntfÜhrung," and Wolfgang complained of the coolness with which his father received his opera. The latter retorted that he was making himself detested in Vienna by his arrogant manners. Wolfgang answered (July 31, 1782):—

And so the whole world declares that my boasting and criticising have made enemies for me of all the professors of music and others. What world? Presumably the Salzburg world; for whoever was here would hear and see enough to the contrary: and that shall be my answer to the charge.

The Baroness WaldstÄdten had in the meantime (by what means we know not) smoothed away all difficulties, and the wedding was celebrated on August 4, before the arrival of the father's formal consent, for which they had waited two post-days. Wolfgang's conviction that the consent could not now be withheld was justified; 9 on the day after the wedding the longed-for letters from the father and sister arrived, and Wolfgang answered in his overflowing happiness (August 7, 1782):—

I kiss your hand, and thank you with all the tenderness which a son can feel for his father for your very kind consent and paternal blessing. My dear wife will write by the next post to beg our best of fathers for his blessing, and our beloved sister for the continuance of her valued friendship. There was no one present at the ceremony except the mother and the youngest sister, Herr von Thorwarth as guardian and supporter (Beistand) to us both, Herr Landrath von Cetto supporting, the bride, and Gilowsky supporting me. When we were actually united MOZART'S MARRIAGE. my wife and I both began to weep. Every one, including the officiating priest, was moved to tears by the sight of our happiness. Our wedding festivities consisted solely in a supper given us by the Baroness von WaldstÄdten, which was rather princely than baronial. 10 Now my dearest Constanze is rejoicing in the thought of a journey to Salzburg, and I wager—yes—I will wager that you will be happy in my happiness when you have learnt to know her, as I do, for the most upright, virtuous, and loving wife that ever made the happiness of a man.

The father considered it necessary to draw attention to the fact that he could no longer expect Wolfgang to assist in extricating him from the debts he had incurred on his son's behalf; on the other hand, Wolfgang must neither now nor at any future time reckon upon him for support; and he begged him to make his bride fully aware of this circumstance. Mozart answered (August 7, 1782):—

My dear Constanze—now, thank God, my own lawful wife—has long known my circumstances and all that I have to expect from you. But her friendship and her love for me were so great that she willingly sacrificed her whole future life to my destinies.

Such was Mozart's courtship, such was his "EntfÜhrung aus dem Auge Gottes," as he used jokingly to call his marriage, because the house in which Madame Weber lived on the Petersplatz was called "Zum Auge Gottes." Truly this time brought him none of the peaceful happiness which the certainty of mutual love bestows under more prosperous circumstances, but it afforded him abundant opportunity for the display of his freedom as an artist, and of his inflexible constancy to what he thought true and right. Unaffected by the vulgarity from the atmosphere of which he had resolved upon rescuing his Constanze, unchanged by the violence and hastiness of his beloved herself, unmoved by the hard and often unjust judgment of his father, he preserved both the firmness of his conviction and will, and the tender susceptibility and charm of his affectionate heart. The mental and moral development of every man depends in no small degree upon whether his course of life has been smooth and his happiness easy of attainment, or whether he has obtained the conditions of his existence only after a long and severe struggle. We must not, therefore, turn aside our glance from the trials and troubles which have beset the lives of great artists and noble men; it was through adversity that they became what they were.