Volume 1 — CHAPTER XVII. MANNHEIM (continued 2)

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.

Volume II. Volume III.