singers at funerals. Vogler, who lately conducted the mass, is
barren and frivolous--a man who imagines he can do a great deal,
and does very little. The whole orchestra dislike him. To-day,
Sunday, I heard a mass of Holzbauer's, which is now twenty-six
years old, but excellent. He writes very well, and has a good
church style, arranges the vocal parts as well as the
instrumental, and writes good fugues. They have two organists
here; it would be worth while to come to Mannheim on purpose to
hear them--which I had a famous opportunity of doing, as it is
the custom here for the organist to play during the whole of the
Benedictus. I heard the second organist first, and then the
other. In my opinion the second is preferable to the first; for
when I heard the former, I asked, "Who is that playing on the
organ?" "Our second organist." "He plays miserably." When the
other began, I said, "Who may that be?" "Our first organist."
"Why, he plays more miserably still." I believe if they were
pounded together, something even worse would be the result. It is
enough to kill one with laughing to look at these gentlemen. The
second at the organ is like a child trying to lift a millstone.
You can see his anguish in his face. The first wears spectacles.
I stood beside him at the organ and watched him with the
intention of learning something from him; at each note he lifts
his hands entirely off the keys. What he believes to be his forte
is to play in six parts, but he mostly makes fifths and octaves.
He often chooses to dispense altogether with his right hand when
there is not the slightest need to do so, and plays with the left
alone; in short, he fancies that he can do as he will, and that
he is a thorough master of his organ.

Mamma sends her love to you all; she cannot possibly write, for