it is under such circumstances that we learn to know them; for they are so, not only in words but in deeds.  Listen to this!  The other day I went, as usual, to dine with Wendling, when he said to me, “Our Indian friend (a Dutchman, who lives on his own means, and is an amateur of all the fine arts, and a great friend and admirer of mine) is certainly an excellent fellow.  He will give you twenty florins to write for him three little easy short concertos, and a couple of quattros for a leading flute.  Cannabich can get you at least two pupils, who will play well; and you could write duets for the piano and violin, and publish them by subscription.  Dinner and supper you will always have with us, and lodgings you have at the Herr Hofkammerrath’s; so all this will cost you nothing.  As for your mother, we can easily find her a cheap lodging for these two months, till you have had time to write about the matter to your father, when she will leave this for Salzburg and we for Paris.”  Mamma is quite satisfied; so all that is yet wanting is your consent, of which I feel so sure that, if the time for our journey were now come, I would set off for Paris without waiting for your reply; for I could expect nothing else from a sensible father, hitherto so anxious for the welfare of his children.  Herr Wendling, who sends you his compliments, is very intimate with our dear friend Grimm, who, when he was here, spoke a great deal about me to Wendling; this was when he had just come from us at Salzburg.  As soon as I receive your answer to this letter, I mean to write to him, for a stranger whom I met at dinner to-day told me that Grimm was now in Paris.  As we don’t leave this till the 8th of March, I beg you, if possible, to try to procure for me, either through Herr Mesmer at Vienna, or some one else, a letter to the Queen of France, if it can be done without much difficulty; if not, it does not much matter.  It would be better if I could have one—­of that there is no doubt; this is also the advice of Herr Wendling.  I suppose what I am now writing must appear very strange to you, because you are in a city where there are only stupid enemies, and weak and simple friends, whose dreary daily bread at Salzburg is so essential to them, that they become flatterers, and are not to be depended on from day to day.  Indeed, this was why I wrote you nothing but childish nonsense, and jokes, and folly; I wished to await the event here, to save you from vexation, and my good friends from blame; for you very unwarrantably accuse them of working against me in an underhand way, which they certainly never did.  Your letters obliged me to relate the whole affair to you.  I entreat you most earnestly not to distress yourself on the subject; God has willed it so.  Reflect also on this most undoubted truth, that we cannot do all we wish.  We often think that such and such a thing would be very good, and another equally bad and evil, and yet if these things came to pass, we should sometimes learn that the very reverse was the case.