Mozart was in a melancholy mood when he began his task, but Schikaneder drove away his doleful dumps by surrounding him with the gay members of the company. There was merry eating, there was clinking of glasses, there was the laughter of women. Here is the origin of many of the exaggerated stories concerning Mozart's dissipated habits. It was long believed that he was then inspired by the melting eyes of the actress Gerl; a story that probably rests on no better foundation than the Mrs. Hofdaemmel tragedy, which even Jahn thought worthy of his attention. "The Magic Flute" was given Sep. 30, at the Auf der Wieden theatre. The composer led the first two performances. The opera at first disappointed the expectations of the hearers, and Mozart was cut to the quick. The opera soon became the fashion, thanks to Schikaneder's obstinacy, so that the two hundredth representation was celebrated in Vienna in October, 1795. It was translated into Dutch, Swedish, Danish, Polish, Italian. It was given in Paris in 1801, under the name of "The Mysteries of Isis"; it was first heard in London in 1811, in Italian. [Illustration: ONE OF THE SEVERAL HOUSES IN VIENNA IN WHICH MOZART LIVED.] One evening in July a strange man called on Mozart with a strange errand. He was tall, gaunt, haggard in face, solemn in demeanor: a fantastic apparition, dressed completely in grey, or, as some affirm in black; such a character as might have appeared to Hoffmann when in the black and dark night, surrounded by spirits of his own conjuring, he wrote wild tales. The visitor gravely handed him an anonymous letter sealed in black, which begged him to write a Requiem as soon as possible, and asked the price. Mozart named 50 ducats, some say 100; the visitor paid the sum, and as Mozart did not name the time for the completion of the work, the unknown man left him, saying, "I shall return, when it is time." The mystery has been solved. The stranger was Leutgeb, the steward of Count Franz von Walsegg of Stuppach; the Count was in the habit of ordering thus mysteriously compositions from different musicians; he would copy them and have them performed as his own; the requiem was ordered in memory of his late wife; and it was sung as Walsegg's work under his direction Dec. 14, 1793. But Mozart knew nothing of the patron or the steward, and he grew superstitious. In the middle of August he received a commission to write a festival opera for the celebration of the coronation of Leopold II. as King of Bohemia in Prague. The subject was Metastasio's "Clemenza di Tito." The music was written hurriedly and first performed Sept. 6. It was not successful; the Empress is said to have spoken bitterly concerning the _porcheria_ of German music. Just as he was stepping into the carriage for his journey to Prague, the thin and haggard man suddenly appeared and asked him what would become of the Requiem. Mozart made his excuses. "When will you be ready?" said Leutgeb. "I swear that I shall work on it