“I despair of ever doing anything truly great in my art! I have only pride, not power, to support me against daily vexations. I have purposed well—true! I have purposed well. I wished to strike out a new path, without neglecting the excellent old school. I might err—ay! I have erred! the result proves it; but the motive of my exertions was pure; what I strove after was great and noble. But I have been slandered—insulted! my aim ridiculed—my endeavors themselves maliciously criticised—decried!—”
“And by whom, Friedemann?”
Friedemann started at this question; at length he said—“I am wrong, I know, to permit the judgment, or rather the silly prating of a malignant fool to destroy the pleasure arising from my exertions; and yet it is so. There is a certain schoolmaster Kniff in Halle, who, though all he accomplishes himself is contemptible, yet passes for a luminary in the musical horizon; I think they call his works reviews.”
“Ay,” cried Sebastian, “I know them to be ridiculous. I think the schoolmaster must be the cause of some sport in Halle.”
“You are mistaken, father,” replied Friedemann. “He is not derided, but feared on account of his malice; and those who fear him not, are pleased at the base libels by which he strives to bring down others to his own level.”
“And can that disturb you?” asked Sebastian, “notwithstanding your knowledge that only the base and the evil array themselves against the good? Methinks I have ever taught you, there is no more certain proof of elevated worth, than the impotent rage and opposition of the vicious. I never taught you to look with pride or arrogance on your equals or inferiors, but to be calm, self-possessed, and to maintain your ground, even against the great, much more against the rich! That is man’s first duty; practise it, Friedemann, and no schoolmaster Kniff, or any one else, can make you dissatisfied with yourself or your efforts.”
Caroline here interrupted the conversation, announcing a stranger, who wished to speak with her father.
“Who is it?” asked Sebastian.
“He will not tell his name, but says he is a friend of yours.”
“Bring him in, then,” answered the old man, and Caroline left the chamber.