A word upon this family of imperial musicians may, perhaps, be pardoned.  It was Charles VI., the father of Maria Theresa, a composer of canons and music for the harpsichord, who, upon being complimented by his Kapellmeister as being well able to officiate as a music-director, dryly observed, “Upon the whole, however, I like my present position better!” His daughter sang an air upon the stage of the Court Theatre in her fifth year; and in 1739, just before her accession to the imperial dignity, being in Florence, she sang a duet with Senesino—­of Handelian memory—­with such grace and splendor of voice, that the tears rolled down the old man’s cheeks.  In all her wars and amid all the cares of state, Maria Theresa never ceased to cherish music.  Her children were put under the best instructors, and made thorough musicians;—­Joseph, whom Mozart so loved, though the victim of his shabby treatment; Maria Antoinette, the patron of Gluck and the head of his party in Paris; Max Franz, with whom we now have to do,—­and so forth.

Upon learning the death of Max Frederick, his successor hastened to Bonn to assume the Archiepiscopal and Electoral dignities, with which he was formally invested in the spring of 1785.  In the train of the new Elector, who was still in the prime of life, was the Austrian Count Waldstein, his favorite and constant companion.  Waldstein, like his master, was more than an amateur,—­he was a fine practical musician.  The promising pupil of Neefe was soon brought to his notice, and his talents and attainments excited in him an extraordinary interest.  Coming from Vienna, where Mozart and Haydn were in the full tide of their success, where Gluck’s operas were heard with rapture, and where in the second rank of musicians and composers were such names as Salieri, Righini, Anfossi, and Martini, Waldstein could well judge of the promise of the boy.  He foresaw at once his future greatness, and gave him his favor and protection.  He, in some degree, at least, relieved him from the dry rules of Neefe, and taught him the art of varying a theme extempore and carrying it out to its highest development.  He had patience and forbearance with the boy’s failings and foibles, and, to relieve his necessities, gave him money, sometimes as gifts of his own, sometimes as gratifications from the Elector.

As soon as Maximilian was installed in his new dignity, Waldstein procured for Ludwig the appointment of assistant court organist;—­not that Neefe needed him, but that he needed the small salary attached to the place.  From this time to the downfall of the Electorate, his name follows that of Neefe in the annual Court Calendar.

Wegeler and others have preserved a variety of anecdotes which illustrate the skill and peculiarities of the young organist at this period, but we have not space for them;—­moreover, our object is rather to convey some distinct idea of the training which made him what every lover of music knows he afterward became.