about this time, merely as affording him necessary exercise and relaxation.

In the early part of the following year, 1785, Mozart gave six subscription concerts, with great success. On one occasion, after he had performed a new concerto, before the Court, at the Opera, the Emperor took off his hat to him as the musician retired, crying out "Bravo, Mozart." The father, who had come over from Salzburg for a few weeks, to be the guest of his son, met the celebrated Joseph Haydn for the first time. To the inquiry, what he thought of his son, the veteran genius replied, "I must tell you, before God and as an honest man, that I think your son the greatest composer I ever heard of; besides his taste he has a profound knowledge of composition." His father shortly after left him to return to Salzburg, and the father and son never met again.

[June,

able, that, in disgust, he resolved at first never again to produce an opera at Vienna. The ill success, in a pecuniary sense, of Figaro," revived in Mozart's mind his longcherished plan of settling in England. So fully was he determined that everything was packed up for the departure, when his pointment as chamber composer to the Emperor, with a pension, took place, and broke up his schemes.

ap

ed some of his finest symphonies at his During the winter of 1786, Mozart producconcerts. Just at this time Beethoven, then where, indeed, he finally settled, after Moa mere youth, had come on a visit to Vienna, zart's death. For a short time Beethoven became his pupil; and it is recorded that on one occasion, while the former was extemporizing on a subject his master had given him, that young man; he will some day make a Mozart said to some by-standers, "Listen to noise in the world." Among his compositions at this period were his symphony in D, and his pianoforte concerto in C.

The spring of 1785 produced Mozart's cantata "Davidde Penitente," a work which, for its originality and dignity, is highly esteemed in Germany, though little known in England. The following April he commenced the score of "Le Nozze di Figaro," If the success of "Figaro," however, was small at for which he had been preparing the previ- Prague. Here Mozart had been invited by Vienna, it was unexampled at ous six months, and which was undertaken Count Thun, a distinguished connoisseur, and at the suggestion of the Emperor Joseph." Figaro" was produced at the theatre amid It seems scarcely credible that the entire the most enthusiastic acclamations. By its opera was written in the course of the month, means the theatre was rescued from its emand so absorbed was be in his work, that the barrassments, while the opera was soon arrang. celebrated finale of the second act, consisting ed in every conceivable form, and its melodies of six grand pieces, was composed in two echoed in every street, and at the door of nights and a day, during which he wrote every beer-shop. So greatly was Mozart enwithout intermission. This portracted ap-couraged by the success of "Figaro" in plication was, however, too much for him, Prague, that he remarked to Bondini, the for, during the second night, when within a manager of the theatre, "As the Bohemians few pages of its completion, he was seized understand me so well, I must write an opera with illness, and compelled to desist. After on purpose for them." The manager took a contest with two rival composers for pre-him at his word, and entered into a contract cedence, who had each a new opera just ready, it was produced, though not till the Emperor himself had interposed between the rival artists, deciding in favor of "Figaro.' Kelly, the composer, has given an interesting sketch of Mozart, as he appeared on the stage at the first rehearsal, in his crimson pelisse and gold-laced cocked head; and the delight of the orchestra. On the evening of its production a cabal arose among the sing. ers, and Mozart was compelled, during the first and second acts, to go to the box of the Emperor, and appeal to him to interfere. The opera was highly successful, but party intrigue and professional jealousy appear to have been too strong for him; and the profits of the third representation, which were to have been his own, proved so inconsider

with him on the spot, to produce an opera for his theatre for the following winter. It proved, in course of time, an opera indeed— no other than "Il Don Giovanni,"

unprofitable employment of composing dance After a few weeks, spent chiefly in the not music, Mozart returned to Vienna, where, shortly afterwards, the melancholy tidings reached him of the death of his father, at Salzburg.

The autumn of this year (1787) found Mozart at the country house of a friend, in whose summer-house he composed serenades and sonatas. Not a bar of "Don Giovanni” had as yet been written; but as he had thoroughly digested the subject in his mind, he set off again for Prague, taking his wife with him. Here, at the house of his friend Dus

sek, who lived at a vineyard near the city, beneath the tempered rays of an autumnal sun, and in the open air, "Don Giovanni" was composed. As, during his stay, there were many guests, there was abundance of talk and laughter, but Mozart pursued his work, and even joined in their bowl playing, rising up from his labors when it came round to his turn to play. In about six weeks the opera was completed, with the exception of the overture. The short week allowed for the stage rehearsals had almost expired, and the evening before its performance was spent by Mozart among a large party assembled in the house of his host. During the evening an anxious friend remarked to him that the opera was to be performed on the morrow, and that the overture was not yet written. He seemed to think awhile, and about midnight retired to his room, desiring his wife to make some punch, and to stay with him to keep him awake. She told him fairy tales and comical stories, at which he laughed excessively. The punch made him so sleepy that he could only go on while his wife continued talking. At length he became so fatigued that she persuaded him to take some rest, promising to wake him in an hour. He In the spring of the following year, Moslept so soundly, however, that she did not zart's genius was employed in enriching the like to wake him till five, two hours after- score of "The Messiah." In April, he left wards. He had appointed the music copiers Vienna on a tour, and while at Prague enterto come at seven, and by the time they arrived into an agreement to produce an opera ed the overture was completed. They do for the theatre during the following autumn not seem to have been themselves very dili- for 200 ducats, a sum double his usual price. gent, for in the evening the opera, which The opera, thus originated, was the celebratshould have commenced at seven, was delay-ed "Cosi fan tutte." About this time Moed for the overture till nearly eight, when the parts, covered with sand, were hurriedly brought into the orchestra, and Mozart himself entered to take his place as conductor. The overture commenced, but, although quite unrehearsed, it pleased the audience so much that they with difficulty suppressed their emotions. Thus was produced his dramatic chief d'œuvre; " of all musical romances," as his biographer, Mr. Holmes, remarks, "certainly the first." The pay for this work of genius was the paltry sum of about 100 ducats; and it is singular that the "Tarrare," of Salieri, an opera now nearly forgotten, which was brought out at Vienna with "Don Giovanni," was far more popular.

utation to be made; and on one occasion he sent the following in a note with the receipt, "Too much for what I do; too little for what I could do."

During the year of 1788, Mozart remained at Vienna, writing music for the court balls. Three symphonies, also, among which was the celebrated Jupiter symphony, were composed this year. The two following years his pen seems to have been comparatively idle, probably owing to dejection induced by sickness and pecuniary perplexity. His absence from Vienna was often owing to the clamor of creditors, and he seems to have sought a temporary forgetfulness of his trials in the society of convivial friends, and in masquerades and balls, to which his great love of dancing specially inclined him. The purity which characterized his earlier years seems to have been at this period not altogether untarnished, though he still retained the warmest affection for his wife and home. During this year he appears to have made Handel's choruses his chief study, and among other diverse compositions, to have written additional accompaniments to his "Acis and Galatea.”

zart had the honor of playing before the King (Frederick William II. of Prussia), who delightedly listened almost daily to his extempore fantasias, or engaged him to perform in quartets, with select players. So greatly pleased, indeed, was the King, that he offered him a pension of 3,000 dollars a year on condition of his remaining at Berlin to superintend the royal orchestra there. Whatever were his reasons, he did not accept this tempting offer, and still continued in the service of the Emperor Joseph.

The sum

In 1790, Cosi fan tutte," the opera above alluded to, was brought out at Vienna, but with no remarkable success. mer found him busily occupied in composing The Emperor Joseph, afraid that Mozart additional accompaniments for Handel's would altogether abandon Vienna, determin- "Alexander's Feast" and the "Ode on St. ed to propitiate him by appointing him cham- Cecilia's Day ;" and the autumn immersed in ber composer to the Court, with the annual pecuniary difficulties so great, that, before salary of 800 florins. The office seems, how- he could make a journey to Frankfort, his ever, to have afforded him little gratification, wife was compelled to part with some of her as there was no duty to perform, and no rep-jewels. His buoyant spirits, however, even

in such circumstances, seem by no means to have forsaken him. At the end of an anxious letter to his wife, he writes the following postscript: "In writing the foregoing page, many tears fell on the paper. Now let us be merry. Prepare yourself; the Prepare yourself; the kisses begin to fly about amazingly. Teufel! here's a crowd of them. Ha! ha! I just now caught three that were delicious."

During the last year of Mozart's life, (1791,) he seems to have labored with an assiduity greater than ever. For the carnival, he composed no less than thirty-five minuets and other dances in six weeks, during January and February. Among these are the waltzes commonly known as Mozart's. During May he was applied to by an embarrassed manager to compose an opera for him, and, a few weeks after, assenting to write it on very liberal terms, "Zauberflöte" was produced. Its success was great, and its reputation spread rapidly all over Germany; but whatever gain it brought to the manager, very little benefit accrued to Mozart.

[June,

menced the composition in his carriage, and finished it at Prague, in eighteen days. They were just stepping into the travelling carriage when the stranger suddenly reappeared, and inquired, "How will the Requiem proceed now?" Mozart excused his journey on the plea of necessity, and the impossibility of giving notice of it to his employer; but, expressing his determination to proceed with the work immediately on his return, the stranger appeared satisfied and departed.

Mozart, whose health had for some time past been rapidly failing him, was ill during the whole of his visit to Prague, and constantly took medicine. He was pale and melancholy, and only revived occasionally when in cheerful society. Under such circumstances, La Clemenza di Tito," the opera above alluded to, was composed, and was produced early in September. It was received somewhat coldly, but the inhabitants of Prague were just at this time stupefied with the gaieties of a coronation. The "Zauabout three weeks afterwards, was far more berflöte," which was produced at Vienna successful.

Mozart's health became worse. He could no longer attend the theatre to conduct his opera. But, though confined to his house, he would place his watch by his side, and in imagination follow the performance through the evening, saying, "Now the first act is over," "Now they are singing such an air;" and then he would ponder over his approaching end. During this time he was at work with the Requiem, partly at home, but more commonly in a friend's garden, and he was observed to be unusually silent and dejected. His wife, hoping to distract his attention, engaged his friends to call as though by chance, but nothing seemed to rouse him. One day his wife drove out with him, and on reaching a retired spot, Mozart began to talk of death, and said he was writing the Requiem for himself.

It was at this period of Mozart's life that the singular incident occurred, so well known in connection with the celebrated "Requiem." Early in August of this year, a stranger called on him with an unsigned letter, the purport of which was to inquire whether he would compose a Requiem, and, if so, by what time and at what price. The stranger was very flattering and mysterious in his manner; and on his departure, Mozart, who never engaged in anything without consulting his wife, related to her the singular proposition. Mozart was by no means unwilling to attempt this style of composition, and his wife urging him to try it, he wrote an assent and stated his terms, excusing himself from naming the precise date for its completion, but requesting to know where it should be sent when finished. His visitant returned in a few days, paid him twenty-five ducats, half the sum demanded, in advance, and told Mozart that, in consideration of his moderate price, he might expect a present on the completion of the work. He was also directed to make no attempt to discover his employer, as it would be in vain. On his departure Mozart fell into a profound reverie, after which he suddenly called for his writing materials and began to write. He had not done much, however, when he was interrupted by receiving the commission to compose the opera for the coronation of the Emperor tracted struggles for competency were beginIt is sad to find that just as Mozart's proLeopold, at Prague, which was now wanted ning to tell, his health was rapidly sinking, forthwith. On the 18th of the next month and his hours in this world became numberhe started, with his wife, for that city, com-ed. On his return from Prague he found a

him out of his fancies, he, with tears, replied: His wife endeavoring to talk "No, no; I am too well convinced that I cannot last long. I have certainly been poisoned. I cannot rid myself of this idea." The score of the Requiem was removed, by the advice of a physician, and his health for awhile improved; but his family could not long keep it from him, and his illness returned.

kapellmeister-ship awaiting him, and commissions from Holland and Hungary, which, in addition to his theatrical engagements, would have insured him a competent income. But it was too late his hands and feet began to swell; he was seized with sickness, and became almost incapable of motion. In this state he was removed to his bed, from which he never rose again. Thus he lay for a fortnight, his intellectual faculties remaining unimpaired. The idea of leaving his wife and children unprovided for, greatly dis

tressed him.

"The ruling passion strong in death," was strikingly illustrated in Mozart's last illness. The Requiem lay almost continually on his bed, and a professional friend received his instructions as to particular effects to be produced. One of his last efforts was an attempt to explain to his friend, by blowing out his cheeks, an effect of the drums. At two o'clock the same day some professional friends called on him. He desired the score of the Requiem to be brought, and it was sung by his friends around his bed, he himself singing the alto part. They had not proceeded far when Mozart burst into tears, and the score was laid aside. Throughout the day he thought he was dying, the more especially as his physicians had from the first given him little hope of recovery.

On the 5th of December, 1791, Mozart's sister-in-law returned, only to witness his death. As she approached his bed, he said, "It is well that you are here; you must stay to-night and see me die." She endeavored to cheer him, but he replied, "The taste of death is already on my tongue-I taste death." On the bed lay the Requiem, and Mozart was still giving directions as to its performance. He called his wife, and made her promise to keep his death secret for awhile from every one but his friend Albrechts berger, that he might the more easily obAs he tain the vacant kapellmeistership. looked over the Requiem for the last time, he said, with tears, "Did I not tell you that I was writing this for myself?" On the arrival of the physician, cold applications were ordered to his burning head, delirium succeeded, and after remaining in this state for two hours, at midnight he died, at the early age of thirty-five years and ten months. His remains were buried in the cemetery of St. Marxer Linie, near Vienna, where his friends Albrechtsberger and Joseph Haydn were afterwards buried. So little ceremony seems to have been used in the matter, that, no memorial marking the grave, the sexton,

some seventeen years afterwards, was unable to point out the precise spot of the interment.

Of Mozart's six children-four boys and two girls-two boys alone grew to manhood, the younger of whom followed his father's profession.

His widow, struggling with difficulties for several years, married M. Von Nissen, aulic councillor to the King of Demark. Madame Sonnenberg, Mozart's sister (Nannerl), lived at Salzburg, an aged widow, till her death in 1830, in very poor circumstances. She was visited by the Novellos the year previous, who found her lodged in a small room, bed ridden, and quite blind. The old clavichord on which the brother and sister had so often played duets together, was still in the sittingroom, and on its desk some of his compositions which she had been playing over just before her illness.

3

Mozart's manner of composing was very singular. It was not always necessary for him to withdraw from society in order to pursue his compositions; but he would often, during a game at bowls or billiards, or surrounded by noisy company, mentally compose, as though in the most complete seclusion. When full of a theme, he could not remain quiet, but while washing his hands in the morning, would walk about his room, kicking one foot against the other, lost in thought. At table he would fasten his napkin by the corners, and make grimaces while he drew it backwards and forwards across He was fond of composing in his mouth. the open air, and many of his works were "Don written in a garden summer-house. Giovanni" was composed on a bowling-green, and the "Requiem" in a garden. "How vexatious," he on one occasion exclaimed to his wife, "to be obliged to hatch all one's conceptions within doors!"

The airs to his

operas were seldom composed till he knew who were to sing them, in order that he might adapt his melodies to the voice of the singer. To these he was most accommodat ing; shortening passages, amplifying, or even re-writing again and again, with the utmost patience and good-humor, in order to please them.

In person, Mozart was remarkably small, very thin and pale, and had an abundance of fair hair, fine in texture, of which he was somewhat vain. His hands, which were very white, were small and well proportioned. He was unsuspicious and generous, and always ready to oblige. Of dancing he was enthusiastically fond, often protesting that his taste lay in that direction rather than music.

So numerous were Mozart's compositions, | composers in sublimity, pathos, or grandeur, that although half a century has passed since it is certain that in rapidity of composition, his death, his productions, printed from the universality of genius, and voluminous MS., are continually being published. How- achievements, he has never been equalled. ever he may have been exceeded by some

From Eliza Cook's Journal.

THE RIGHT HON. W. E. GLADSTONE.

THE present Chancellor of the Exchequer | is the only member of the present Cabinet who may be regarded as belonging to, or rather who has sprung from, the middle ranks of the people. All the other members of the Cabinet belong to the aristocratic class. But Mr. Gladstone, though more obscure in his origin, and though numbering fewer years than most of his colleagues, is nevertheless to be regarded as probably the most highlycultivated scholar, the most accomplished statesman, and the greatest genius, belonging to the present administration.

His father, the late Sir John Gladstone, of Fasque, was in early life a small tradesman in the town of Leith, where he was born. The family originally came from Biggar, in Lanarkshire, and were respectable people, though in humble circumstances. John Gladstone, or Gladstones, as he was then called, did not succeed in business at Leith; he became bankrupt, and afterwards removed to Liverpool, where, at the age of twenty-two, he began the world anew, in a very small way; but by dint of industry, energy, and frugality, and through shrewd knowledge of men, of life, and of business, he rapidly succeeded in accumulating an immense fortune, chiefly in the West Indian and American trade. Indeed, rapid though the success of Liverpool men often is, that of John Gladstones was almost unprecedented. This was in a great measure owing to his commercial skill and enterprise, which led him to embark in ventures from which other merchants held aloof; but the safety and wisdom of which ventures, rash though to some they might appear, were amply justified by the result. For example, he was the first Liverpool merchant who ventured upon the East-India

trade, now of such vast extent; his vessel, the Kinginsall, having been the very first that sailed from Liverpool to Calcutta. He thus opened up an immense field of profitable trade to Liverpool; and, while he largely increased his own fortunes, he proved a benefactor to his fellow townsmen, which they were never slow to acknowledge.

John Gladstones not only succeeded as a merchant, but he also achieved distinction as a member of Parliament. At different times he represented Lancaster, Woodstock, and man of liberal tendencies, being one of Mr. Berwick. Though a Conservative, he was a Canning's most attached supporters; and when Canning visited Liverpool, during the time he represented that town, he invariably made Seaforth House (Mr. Gladstones' resi dence) his temporary home. In 1835, he obtained permission, by royal license, to drop the final letter s in his name; and in 1846 he was created a baronet of the United Kingdom. Having purchased extensive estates in his native country, at Fasque and Belfour, in Kincardineshire, he chiefly resided there in his later years, leaving his extensive Liverpool business to the management of his sons.

Sir John Gladstone was twice married, first to a Liverpool lady, the daughter of Joseph Hall, Esq., by whom he had no issue; and, secondly, to Miss Anne Robertson, a daughter of Andrew Robertson, provost (or mayor) of Dingwall, a small town in the north of Scotland, situated in the Highland county of Ross. By this lady, Sir John Gladstone had a family of four sons and two daughters. The fourth son, William Ewart, is the subject of our present sketch. Readers of the newslast few months he has paid a visit to Dingpapers will have observed that within the