I wish you, dearest papa, a very happy new-year, and that your health, so precious in my eyes, may daily improve, for the benefit and happiness of your wife and children, the satisfaction of your true friends, and for the annoyance and vexation of your enemies.  I hope also that in the coming year you will love me with the same fatherly tenderness you have hitherto shown me.  I on my part will strive, and honestly strive, to deserve still more the love of such an admirable father.  I was cordially delighted with your last letter of the 15th of December, for, thank God!  I could gather from it that you are very well indeed.  We, too, are in perfect health, God be praised!  Mine is not likely to fail if constant work can preserve it.  I am writing this at eleven at night, because I have no other leisure time.  We cannot very well rise before eight o’clock, for in our rooms (on the ground-floor) it is not light till half-past eight.  I then dress quickly; at ten o’clock I sit down to compose till twelve or half-past twelve, when I go to Wendling’s, where I generally write till half-past one; we then dine.  At three o’clock I go to the Mainzer Hof (an hotel) to a Dutch officer, to give him lessons in galanterie playing and thorough bass, for which, if I mistake not, he gives me four ducats for twelve lessons.  At four o’clock I go home to teach the daughter of the house.  We never begin till half past four, as we wait for lights.  At six o’clock I go to Cannabich’s to instruct Madlle.  Rose.  I stay to supper there, when we converse and sometimes play; I then invariably take a book out of my pocket and read, as I used to do at Salzburg.  I have already written to you the pleasure your last letter caused me, which is quite true; only one thing rather vexed me, the inquiry whether I had not perchance forgotten to go to confession.  I shall not say anything further on this.  Only allow me to make you one request, which is, not to think so badly of me.  I like to be merry, but rest assured that I can be as serious as any one.  Since I quitted Salzburg (and even in Salzburg) I have met with people who spoke and acted in a way that I should have felt ashamed to do, though they were ten, twenty, and thirty years older than myself.  I implore of you therefore once more, and most earnestly, to have a better opinion of me.

87.

Mannheim, Dec. 27, 1777.

A pretty sort of paper this!  I only wish I could make it better; but it is now too late to send for any other.  You know, from our previous letters, that mamma and I have a capital lodging.  It never was my intention that she should live apart from me; in fact, when the Hofkammerrath Serrarius so kindly offered me his house, I only expressed my thanks, which is by no means saying yes.  The next day I went to see him with Herr Wendling and M. de Jean (our worthy Dutchman), and only waited till he should himself begin the subject.  At length he renewed his offer, and I thanked him in these words: