hundred concerts in Germany, and I am far happier when I have
something to compose, which is my chief delight and passion; and
if I get a situation anywhere, or have hopes of one, the
scrittura would be a great recommendation to me, and excite a
sensation, and cause me to be more thought of. This is mere talk,
but still I say what is in my heart. If papa gives me any good
grounds to show that I am wrong, then I will give it up, though,
I own, reluctantly. Even when I hear an opera discussed, or am in
a theatre myself and hear voices, oh! I really am beside myself!

To-morrow, mamma and I are to meet Misliweczeck in the Hospital
garden to take leave of him; for he wished me last time to fetch
mamma out of church, as he said he should like to see the mother
of so great a virtuoso. My dear papa, do write to him as often as
you have time to do so; you cannot confer a greater pleasure on
him, for the man is quite forsaken. Sometimes he sees no one for
a whole week, and he said to me, "I do assure you it does seem so
strange to me to see so few people; in Italy I had company every
day." He looks thin, of course, but is still full of fire and
life and genius, and the same kind, animated person he always
was. People talk much of his oratorio of "Abraham and Isaac,"
which he produced here. He has just completed (with the exception
of a few arias) a Cantata, or Serenata, for Lent; and when he was
at the worst he wrote an opera for Padua. Herr Heller is just
come from him. When I wrote to him yesterday I sent him the
Serenata that I wrote in Salzburg: for the Archduke Maximilian
["Il Re Pastore"].

Now to turn to something else. Yesterday I went with mamma
immediately after dinner to take coffee with the two Fraulein von