r heart was touched by the
reflection that the art which she loved should demand so much
sacrifice and suffering from those whose lives were wholly given up to
its ennoblement. She had supposed that one who could write such music
must have the command of money and the influence of wealthy
patrons--yet how different were the facts! Haydn's relation ended, the
Countess assured him that thenceforth he might count upon her as his
friend and well-wisher as well as pupil, and the happy young musician,
having attempted to express his thanks, withdrew with a heart
overflowing with gratitude.

A future bright with promise had now dawned for Haydn. His works were
to be heard in the best musical circles of Vienna, and praise and
encouragement flowed in from every quarter. A wealthy music patron,
Karl von Fuernberg, who had recognised his genius, persuaded him to
compose his first quartet, and thus turned his attention to the branch
of composition in which he was later on to excel. At the instance of
this patron Haydn, in 1759, received the appointment of music-director
to a rich Bohemian nobleman named Count Ferdinand Morzin, who was an
ardent lover of music, and maintained a small orchestra at his country
seat. This was a great step in his advancement, and the year which
witnessed it is also memorable as having been that in which he
composed his first symphony.

Haydn was now twenty-six, and no longer an unknown musician. One point
with regard to his compositions had already struck many whose judgment
carried weight, and had aroused some criticism on the part of the
connoisseurs: this point was their originality. He appeared to have
marked out for himself an independent line of work, and to be
following it up with a boldness that, in the eyes of certain of his
critics, savoured of an open defiance of established rules. But the
fact was overlooked by these critics that the circumstances of Haydn's
life had thrown him back upon himself and compelled him to be
original. His knowledge of counterpoint, to the rules of which he
showed a seeming disregard, had been derived almost entirely from
self-study. Without a single helping hand to guide him, he had
mastered the formidable difficulties of his 'Gradus'; and lighted only
by his inborn genius, he had deliberately chosen the path which he
felt to be that which would conduct him to the highest levels of his
art. The independence thus gained--and which speedily showed itself in
all t