I have many kind friends at Mannheim (both highly esteemed and rich) who wished very much to keep me there.  Well! where I am properly paid, I am content to be.  Who can tell? it may still come to pass.  I wish it may; and thus it ever is with me—­I live always in hope.  Herr Cannabich is an honorable, worthy man, and a kind friend of mine.  He has only one fault, which is, that although no longer very young, he is rather careless and absent, —­if you are not constantly before his eyes, he is very apt to forget all about you.  But where the interests of a real friend are in question, he works like a horse, and takes the deepest interest in the matter; and this is of great use, for he has influence.  I cannot, however, say much in favor of his courtesy or gratitude; the Webers (for whom I have not done half so much), in spite of their poverty and obscurity, have shown themselves far more grateful.  Madame Cannabich and her daughter never thanked me by one single word, much less thought of offering me some little remembrance, however trifling, merely as a proof of kindly feeling; but nothing of the sort, not even thanks, though I lost so much time in teaching the daughter, and took such pains with her.  She can now perfectly well perform before any one; as a girl only fourteen, and an amateur, she plays remarkably well, and for this they have to thank me, which indeed is very well known to all in Mannheim.  She has now neatness, time, and good fingering, as well as even shakes, which she had not formerly.  They will find that they miss me much three months hence, for I fear she will again be spoiled, and spoil herself; unless she has a master constantly beside her, and one who thoroughly understands what he is about, she will do no good, for she is still too childish and giddy to practise steadily and carefully alone. [Footnote:  Rosa Cannabich became, indeed, a remarkable virtuoso.  C L. Junker mentions her, even in his musical almanac of 1783, among the most eminent living artists.]

Madlle.  Weber paid me the compliment kindly to knit two pairs of mits for me, as a remembrance and slight acknowledgment.  M. Weber wrote out whatever I required gratis, gave me the music-paper, and also made me a present of Moliere’s Comedies (as he knew that I had never read them), with this inscription:—­“Ricevi, amico, le opere di Moliere, in segno di gratitudine, e qualche volta ricordati di me.” [Footnote:  “Accept, my dear friend, Moliere’s works as a token of my gratitude; and sometimes think of me.”] And when alone with mamma he said, “Our best friend, our benefactor, is about to leave us.  There can be no doubt that your son has done a great deal for my daughter, and interested himself much about her, and she cannot be too thankful to him.” [Footnote:  Aloysia Weber became afterwards Madame Lange.  She had great fame as a singer.  We shall hear more of her in the Vienna letters.] The day before I set off, they would insist on my supping with them, but I managed to give them two hours before supper instead.  They never ceased thanking me, and saying they only wished they were in a position to testify their gratitude, and when I went away they all wept.  Pray forgive me, but really tears come to my eyes when I think of it.  Weber came down-stairs with me, and remained standing at the door till I turned the corner and called out Adieu!