They arose and followed Padre Martini, who led them with quiet dignity, though at heart he was not so quiet as he appeared. He was really afraid Wolfgang had underestimated the difficulty of his task and made errors. His heart beat violently as the official unlocked the door, and his eager eyes rested upon young Mozart, who was standing in the middle of the room in his easy, careless manner, with uplifted head, smiling countenance, and eyes glowing with the certainty of success. He handed the paper to Padre Martini with a graceful bow. The latter took it and cast a hurried, anxious glance at it. Almost instantly his face lit up with satisfaction. “He has succeeded,” he said to himself with a sigh of relief. “It is greater, grander, more artistic than I had dared to think or hope.” Then he turned in a dignified manner to the censors: “Let us return to the hall, gentlemen. The work of the young musician must be thoroughly analyzed and passed upon.” With a gracious inclination of his head and a smile of delight, Padre Martini took leave of Wolfgang, who was again locked in to await the final announcement. Nearly an hour had passed when the boy heard some one hurriedly approaching. The door was again opened, and Padre Martini with tears of joy entered and embraced him. “Come with me, my son,” he said with choking voice, as he led Wolfgang back to the hall. When the youth entered by the side of the grand old master all the members arose, greeted him with long-continued and enthusiastic hand-clapping, and shouted: “Evviva il maestro! Evviva il Cavaliere Filarmonico!” Wolfgang was pale with joyous excitement. He had achieved his most glorious victory. His work had been unanimously adjudged the highest honors. He was now a member of the Academy, a recognized master, a knight of the exalted art to which he had consecrated his whole life. Two arms enfolded him with affectionate tenderness—the arms of his happy father. Wolfgang shed tears of delight. There was a silence of sympathy in the hall, broken all at once by the jubilant shouts of thousands in the street, the acclamations of a vast multitude resounding like the surge of the sea, and repeating the same words which had just rung through the hall: “Evviva il maestro! Evviva il Cavaliere Filarmonico!” With this inspiring and exciting scene Mozart’s boyhood closed. He was no longer a child. Though in years a boy, in deeds he was a man,—a man in the full sense of the term, a sovereign in the empire of music, the idol of the Italians, soon to be the favorite of the world. What the child had promised, the man had achieved. His works bear witness to the greatness of that achievement. They shine like brilliant stars in the musical firmament. They assure his universal and imperishable fame. Appendix The following is a chronological statement of the principal events in the life of Mozart: