ing any direct allusion to the subject of Mozart's attachment,
trusting to the latter's sense of what was due to one who had made
such sacrifices on his behalf. His trust was not misplaced; duty and
affection prevailed, and with a heavy heart Mozart yielded to his
father's wishes, and his love-dream came to an end. His ready
compliance brought a most affectionate letter from Leopold, in which
he assures his dear Wolfgang that he does not entertain the least
mistrust of him; on the contrary, he has perfect confidence and hope
in his filial love. His good judgment, if he will only listen to it,
will direct him how to act. As for himself, he is resigned to
separation, and he adjures Wolfgang to live the life of a good
Catholic Christian. 'Love God and fear Him,' he continues; 'pray to
Him sincerely and devoutly, and let your conduct be such that, should
I never see you again, my death-bed may be free from anxiety. From my
heart I bless you.'
The departure for Paris was now fixed, but the leave-taking with the
Webers was not accomplished without tears, for the family insisted on
regarding Wolfgang as their 'greatest benefactor.' Aloysia was
encouraged to hope for better things, for she had already been heard
in public on several occasions through Mozart's influence, and now she
was to be placed under the care of a celebrated singer named Raaff,
who had undertaken to carry on the training of her beautiful voice,
and to assist in bringing her out.
The hopes which Leopold Mozart had built upon Wolfgang's prospects of
success in Paris were not destined to be fulfilled. The enthusiasm
which he had evoked as a marvellous prodigy was not to be elicited by
his matured powers as a young man, and the influence necessary to
enforce his claims to be recognised as a composer of standing was
lacking. Three months passed away in more or less unsuccessful
endeavour, and then the mother, who had been his companion and
comforter throughout this long period of trial and travel, was struck
down by serious illness, and on July 3, 1778, she breathed her last in
her son's arms. Wolfgang's first thought in the hour of sorrow was for
his father, and he wrote to an old friend at Salzburg, begging him to
break the sad news as gently as possible. When he knew that this had
been done he himself wrote a letter to his father, full of sympathy
and affection.
Mozart now determined to leave Paris at once, and his father was the
more willing to acquie
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