THE SONG OF THE SERAPH. "Droop not, brother! rarely yet True, that now the cloud doth lower : "O'er the earth it moves along, "Then shall thoughtless splendour fail, Before the glorious march of mind! "Then droop not, faint not! rarely yet, That did not on the morrow rise, Sporting in a hundred dyes, Right glorious in the eastern skies !" O, blessings on thee, lovely seraph! I will not droop, I will not faint; And never more to sun nor star prefer again my sad complaint. And though in mists and shadows dim'd the light of learning now may be, I will have faith in all thy words, believing what I cannot see; For this is truth-a noble truth-which fairest seems when most maligned : Though sun and moon shall cease to shine, still onward moves the march of mind! THE LIFE OF MOZART. Ir is an old worn-out remark, that genius has generally been to its possessor a fatal gift,-that he in whose life it has been exemplified has but had too generally to carry on a sad struggle with want and woe in their direst forms; that whilst with a lavish hand he has scattered around him his rich stores of intellectual wealth, society has in return given him, not bread, but a stone; and that for the valiant toil of a life, his best temporal reward too often has been the silent grave. In all times past, this has been the common lot of the gifted and the great. In times to come, it bids fair to be much the same. Our fathers stoned the prophets, and we build their sepulchres when dead. In the greater luxuriousness of the present age, we see little to convince us that genius now is more highly reverenced or better understood; and he who would pourtray a life illustrated and adorned by its divine power, will have to repeat the old tale,-the tale, old as creation's dawn,-the tale that has been repeated in every variety of human suffering and sorrow; the tale of bright hopes and sad realities,—of brilliant purposes and bitter disappointments,- of sinking frames and broken hearts, of neglect when living, and applause when dead. For much of this, undoubtedly, the sons of genius have themselves to blame. Few have braced themselves up for the struggle human life imperiously requires. Most of them have more or less listened to the siren voices that have drawn them away from the only path in which it is given frail and erring man to make his calling and election sure. Mournful as drear November's wind, full of sad despair, has been the wail of genius about to enter the darkness of the tomb; for Shakspeare, whose "Soul was like a star, and dwelt apart," to quote the poet Laureate's not particularly happy line on Milton, is the only exception; other names, however brilliant, do but confirm our case. But this sad truth, we firmly believe, was never more fully established than in the careful and well-performed work of Mr. Holmes, where for the first time the English reader gets in one view the life, eventful,-rugged,-bright in its morning, but dark and gloomy when evening came,—of John Chrysostom Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, of whom it may be sai, as Shelley beautifully says of Keats, that— The 27th of January, 1756, was the birth-day of one of the most extraordinary musicians Germany can boast. Wolfgang's father, Leopold, was a musician, according to the custom of the times, in the establishment of the Archbishop of Salzburg; his wife was a native of Salzburg, and six other children were born to him,—of them but two, Wolfgang, and his sister Anna Maria, survived the period of infancy. The father and mother were so conspicuous for beauty of form, that it was said, at the time of their marriage, so handsome a couple had never been seen at Salzburg. Leopold Mozart, as his family increased, was obliged to devote every hour he could spare to tuition on the violin and clarion. A work he published, entitled, "An Attempt towards a Fundamental System for the Violin," gradually extended his reputation as an artist and as a methodical and sound instructor. The father discovered the wonderful musical genius of his family in the following manner. When his girl had reached seven years of age, she became his pupil on the clarion, at which her progress was very great. Her brother was a constant attendant on these lessons, and already showed a lively interest in music. At four, he could always remember the solos in the concerts which he heard. In learning to play, he learned to compose at the same time. His progress was so great, that at four years of age, or earlier, he composed little pieces, which his father wrote down for him. In 1762, the father having no doubt by this time of the musical genius of his son, resolved to take both him and his sister to the Bavarian court at Munich, where they remained three weeks. Wolfgang performed a concerto in the presence of the elector, and, with his sister, excited the most lively admiration. The boy, says Mr. Holmes, was always extremely animated and intelligent. Before he applied himself to music, he entered into the usual pastimes of childhood with such interest, that over a pleasant game he would forget every thing, even his meals; but afterwards he lost much of his relish for these recreations, or liked them only in proportion as they were mixed with music. One of the great favourites of Wolfgang, and his especial playmate, was Andreas Schachtner, the principal trumpeter in the archbishop's band, a man of cultivated mind and considerable talent in poetry, the intimate friend of the family. Whenever the play-things were removed from one chamber to another, if his companions were with him, it must be done to music; and he who carried nothing, must sing or play a march. Such was the ascendency the art had gained. His disposition was characterized by an extreme sensibility and tenderness, insomuch that he would ask those about him ten times a day whether they loved him, and if they jestingly answered in the negative, his eyes would fill with tears. The first studies in arithmetic were pursued by little Wolfgang with such ardour, as for a time to supplant even music in his affections. The walls, the chairs, the tables, and even the floor, were now covered with figures, and his predilection for this branch of science, with the reputation of expertness in it he now acquired, was preserved by him throughout life. That he might the better superintend the education of his children, Leopold Mozart declined all engagements as a teacher of music at Salzburg. The trip to Munich had answered so well, that another and a more formidable one was planned. On the 19th of September, 1762, the whole family set out for Vienna, at which place they arrived, after a journey of a month. There they became at once famous; Wofeil as his father affectionately termed him, was admired and caressed by the fashion and beauty of the place. Mozart's father thus describes his son's first appearance at court :"At present I have not time to say more, than that we were so graciously received by both their majesties, that my relation would be held for a fable. Wofeil sprang into the lap of the empress, took her round the neck, and kissed her very heartily. We were there from three to six o'clock, and the emperor himself came into the ante-chamber to fetch me to hear the child play on the violin. Yesterday, Theresa's day, the empress sent us, through her private treasurer, who drove up in state before the door of our dwelling, two robes, the one for the boy, the other for the girl. The private treasurer always fetches them to court." The next letter of the elder Mozart is in the same hopeful strain, but the sunshine was darkened by a cloud,-happily but a passing one. Happiness and glass," exclaims the father, "how brittle are ye! I had already been thinking that we had been for a whole fortnight but too happy, when it pleased God to send us a little cross; and we thank his infinite goodness it is now over. On the 21st, at seven in the evening, we were with the empress; on which occasion Wofeil was not himself, and soon after exhibited a sort of scarlet eruption. Pray get read three holy masses to Loretto, and three to the holy Francis de Paula." Wolfgang soon recovered; but the nobility, who dreaded smallpox, and every other eruptive disease, were too much alarmed to come near him, and for four weeks the family remained in profitless seclusion. When this time, however, had elapsed, he was as much in request as before. He was much with the royal family, but was but an indifferent courtier. The princes of the imperial family cultivated music, and one of them, afterwards the Emperor Joseph, happening to exhibit a solo on the violin, when the Mozarts were in attendance in the ante-room, heard the little critic exclaiming, "Ah, that was out of tune," and then again, "Bravo!" The honest, undisguised truths which the prince then heard, we are told, he never forgot, nor ever recurred to them without good-natured laughter. Mr Holmes has preserved another anecdote relating to this visit. "As the two arch-duchesses were one day leading the boy between them to the empress, being unused to the highly polished floor, his foot slipped, and he fell; one of them took no notice of the accident, but the other, Marie Antoinette, afterwards the unfortunate Queen of France, lifted him up and consoled him. He said to her, You are very kind;-I will marry you.' She related this to her mother, who asked Wolfgang how he came to form such a resolution. From gratitude!' he replied; she was so good, but her sister gave herself no concern about me.' In the beginning of the year, as a proof of the delicate organization of the young musician, we are told that he had at this time. "an invincible horror at the sound of the trumpet; he could not bear the instrument when blown by itself, and was alarmed to see it even handled. His father, thinking to remove this childish fear, -though one must needs think in this instance with less than his usual prudence,-desired that it should be blown before him, notwithstanding all his entreaties to the contrary. At the first blast, he turned, and sank to the ground; and serious consequences might have ensued, had the experiment been persisted in." A beautiful trait in his character was his reverence for his father."Before he went to rest at night, a little solemnity took place, which could not on any occasion be omitted. He had composed a tune, which was regularly sung by himself at this time, standing in a chair, while his father, standing near him, sang the seconds. Between the singing, and after it, he would kiss his father on the tip of his nose; and having thus expressed his childish affection, go quietly and contentedly to bed. This custom was observed till he had passed his ninth year. For his father and instructor, who appeared in every point of view in a light that commanded respect, he cherished sentiments of veneration, and one of his most ordinary sayings was, "God first, and then papa." It was an odd fancy of his, that when his father became old, he would have him preserved in a glass case, the better to contemplate and admire him. On the 9th of July, the Mozart family set out on a new expedition. Wolfgang at this time, in his eighth year, seems to have been equal to anything in the way of music. Mr. Holmes thus sums up his accomplishments. "He played the clavier, the organ, and the violin; he sang, played, and composed extempore; played and transposed at sight; accompanied from score, improvised on a given bass, and was able, in fact, to answer every challenge." At Munich, from whence the father writes, on the 21st of June, they, by the help of Prince Zweirbruchen, are introduced to the elector and Prince Clement, from whom they received praise, and, after some delay, a yet more acceptable reward, of a pecuniary nature. The next letter is from Ludwigsburg, and describes a profitless stay |