The Grand Master of the Teutonic Order arrived yesterday.  “Essex” was given at the Court Theatre, and a magnificent ballet.  The theatre was all illuminated.  The beginning was an overture by Cannabich, which, as it is one of his last, I did not know.  I am sure, if you had heard it you would have been as much pleased and excited as I was, and if you had not previously known the fact, you certainly could not have believed that it was by Cannabich.  Do come soon to hear it, and to admire the orchestra.  I have no more to say.  There is to be a grand concert this evening, where Mara is to sing three airs.  Tell me whether it snows as heavily in Salzburg as here.  My kind regards to Herr Schikaneder [impresario in Salzburg], and beg him to excuse my not yet sending him the aria, for I have not been able to finish it entirely.

127.

Munich, Nov. 13, 1780.

I write in the greatest haste, for I am not yet dressed, and must go off to Count Seeau’s.  Cannabich, Quaglio, and Le Grand, the ballet-master, also dine there to consult about what is necessary for the opera.  Cannabich and I dined yesterday with Countess Baumgarten, [Footnote:  He wrote an air for her, the original of which is now in the State Library at Munich.] nee Lerchenteld.  My friend is all in all in that family, and now I am the same.  It is the best and most serviceable house here to me, for owing to their kindness all has gone well with me, and, please God, will continue to do so.  I am just going to dress, but must not omit the chief thing of all, and the principal object of my letter,—­ to wish you, my very dearest and kindest father, every possible good on this your name-day.  I also entreat the continuance of your fatherly love, and assure you of my entire obedience to your wishes.  Countess la Rose sends her compliments to you and my sister, so do all the Cannabichs and both Wendling families, Ramm, Eck father and son, Becke, and Herr del Prato, who happens to be with me.  Yesterday Count Seeau presented me to the Elector, who was very gracious.  If you were to speak to Count Seeau now, you would scarcely recognize him, so completely have the Mannheimers transformed him.

I am ex commissione to write a formal answer in his name to the Abbate Varesco, but I have no time, and was not born to be a secretary.  In the first act (eighth scene) Herr Quaglio made the same objection that we did originally,—­namely, that it is not fitting the king should be quite alone in the ship.  If the Abbe thinks that he can be reasonably represented in the terrible storm forsaken by every one, without A ship, exposed to the greatest peril, all may remain as it is; but, N. B., no ship—­for he cannot be alone in one; so, if the other mode be adopted, some generals or confidants (mates) must land from the ship with him.  Then the king might address a few words to his trusty companions, and desire them to leave him alone, which in his melancholy situation would be quite natural.