“I regret that I cannot, being already engaged.”  “M.  Mozart, we really must soon spend a day together.”  “It will give me much pleasure.”  A long pause; at length, “A propos, are you disposed to write a grand symphony for me for Corpus Christi day?” “Why not?” “May I then rely on this?” “Oh, yes! if I may, with equal confidence, rely on its being performed, and that it will not fare like the sinfonie concertante.”  This opened the flood-gates; he excused himself in the best way he could, but did not find much to say.  In short, the symphony [Kochel, No. 297] was highly approved of; and Le Gros is so satisfied with it that he says it is his very best symphony.  The andante, however, has not the good fortune to please him; he declares that it has too many modulations, and is too long.  He derives this opinion from the audience forgetting to clap their hands as loudly, and to be as vociferous, as at the end of the first and last movements.  But this andante is a great favorite with myself, as well as with all connoisseurs, amateurs, and the greater part of those who heard it.  It is the exact reverse of what Le Gros says, for it is both simple and short.  But in order to satisfy him (and no doubt some others) I have written a fresh one.  Each good in its own way—­ each having a different character.  The last pleases me the best.  The first good opportunity I have, I will send you this sinfonie concertante, and also the “School for the Violin,” some pieces for the piano, and Vogler’s book ("Ton Wissenschaft und Kunst"), and then I hope to have your opinion of them.  On August 15th, Ascension Day, my sinfonie, with the new andante, is to be performed for the second time.  The sinfonie is in Re, the andante in Sol, for here one must not say in D or in G. Le Gros is now all for me.

Take comfort and pray without ceasing; this is the only resource we have.  I hope you will cause a holy mass to be said in Maria Plain and in Loretto.  I have done so here.  As for the letter to Herr Bahr, I don’t think it is necessary to send it to me; I am not as yet acquainted with him; I only know that he plays the clarionet well, but is in other respects no desirable companion, and I do not willingly associate with such people; no credit is derived from them, and I really should feel positively ashamed to give him a letter recommending me to him—­even if he could be of service to me; but it so happens that he is by no means in good repute here.  Many do not know him at all.  Of the two Staunitz, the junior only is here [Mannheim composer].  The elder of the two (the veritable Hafeneder composer) is in London.  They are wretched scribblers, gamblers, and drunkards, and not the kind of people for me.  The one now here has scarcely a coat to his back.  By the by, if Brunetti should ever be dismissed, I would be glad to recommend a friend of mine to the Archbishop as first violin; he is a most worthy man, and very steady.  I think he is about forty years of age, and a widower; his name is Rothfischer.  He is Concertmeister at Kirchheim-Boland, with the Princess of Nassau-Weilberg [see No. 91].  Entre nous, he is dissatisfied, for he is no favorite with his Prince—­that is, his music is not.  He urged me to forward his interests, and it would cause me real pleasure to be of use to him, for never was there such a kind man.