The hour is late, my dear friend, later than it was our wont to separate after our musical revels, which, in the opinion of your amiable wife, often lasted far too long.
Farewell, and accept my book with the same cordial sympathy and indulgence which I have hitherto found so invaluable.
MY DEAR FRIEND,--I can scarcely describe to you the depression of spirits with which I laid aside my pen at the close of my foregoing letter to you. When I looked at the thick volume before me, which had grown so wonderfully under my hands, and reflected that several others were to follow, I felt a misgiving amounting to certainty that my work was ill-planned, badly executed, or altogether out of place. I should not have believed any one who had prophesied the result that was actually to follow. The gradual conviction that I had been mistaken, that the book was a success beyond anything I had dared to expect, the many proofs I received of acknowledgment and sympathy, were my best encouragement to apply my whole energies to the completion of my arduous task.
When it became necessary to prepare a second edition, I rejoiced at the prospect of revising the whole work in the light of my acquired experience, and hoped that this labour of love would recompense me for all my pains. In this expectation I was, however, deceived; the revision, which I now lay before you, assumed the proportions of a heavy task, requiring the exertions of all my powers for its accomplishment.
The gloom of the last few years cast its shadows even over my work, as you, who seek and recognise the living author behind his words, will not fail to discover; I trust that you will also find traces of the conscientiousness with which I have striven to perform my appointed task.
You will agree with me in thinking that it would have been unadvisable to subvert the whole design of the book in substance and form, and that I must content myself with such improvements in matters of detail as would bring me
somewhat nearer to the end I had in view. It was, of course, my first endeavour to rectify such errors and remove such blemishes as had been observed either by myself or others, and I then proceeded to turn to account all the materials that had come to hand for the completion or enrichment of my narrative. I had become the fortunate possessor of copies of Mozart's complete correspondence, so far as I know it to exist. If, as I trust was the case, the extracts already before the public had been found useful and trustworthy, there could be no doubt that the completed version would render my narrative more accurate and lifelike. In addition, I had now Mozart's entire compositions, either autograph or copied, so that I could confirm my account and my criticism of each work by direct reference.