"No matter who I am. I come to give you a little advice, my boy. I compassionate, yet I revere you. I revere your heaven-imparted genius. I commiserate the woes those very gifts must bring upon you through life."
The boy lifted his eyes again; those of the speaker seemed so bright, yet withal so melancholy, that he was possessed of a strange fear. "I see you," continued the unknown solemnly, "exalted above homage, but lonely and unblessed in your elevation. Yet the lot of such is fixed; and it is better, perhaps, that one should consume in the sacred fire than that the many should lack illumination."
"I do not understand you," said Louis, wishing to put an end to the interview.
"That is not strange, since you do not understand yourself," said the stranger. "As for me, I pay homage to a future sovereign!" and he suddenly snatched up the boy's hand and kissed it. Louis was convinced of his insanity.
"A sovereign in art," continued the unknown. "The sceptre that Haydn and Mozart have held shall pass without interregnum to your hands. When you are acknowledged in all Germany for the worthy successor of these great masters—when all Europe wonders at the name of Beethoven—remember me.
"But you have much ground to pass over," resumed the stranger, "ere you reach that glorious summit. Reject not the aid of science, of literature; there are studies now disagreeable that still may prove serious helps to you in the cultivation of music. Contemn not any learning: for art is a coy damsel, and would have her votaries all accomplished! Above all—trust yourself. Whatever may happen, give no place to despondency. They blame you for your disregard of rules; make for yourself higher and vaster rules. You will not be appreciated here; but there are other places in the world; in Vienna—"
"Oh! if I could only go to Vienna," sighed the lad.
"You shall go there, and remain," said the stranger; "and there too you shall see me, or hear from me. Adieu, now—auf Wiedersehen." ("To meet again.")
And before the boy could recover from his astonishment the stranger was gone. It was nearly dark, and he could see nothing of him as he walked through the wood. He could not, however, spend much time in search; for he dreaded the reproaches of his father for having stayed out so late. All the way home he was trying to remember where he had seen the unknown, whose features, though he could not say to whom they belonged, were not unfamiliar to him. It occurred to him at last, that while playing before the elector one day a countenance similar in benevolent expression had looked upon him from the circle surrounding the sovereign. But known or unknown, the "auf Wiedersehen" of his late companion rang in his ears, while the friendly counsel sank deep in his heart.