mathematics, that is, the early prodigies in childish form, which seem to say that neither the art nor the science requires the slow care of the gardener, Experience, but are plants indigenous to the soil, which need only air and light to lure them up to majestic stature.) Connected with this is his exquisite delicacy of organization, unparalleled save in the history of the fairy Fine Ear, so that at six years old he perceived a change of half a quarter of a note in the tuning of a violin, and fainted always at sound of the trumpet. The wonderful exploits which this accurate perception of and memory for sounds enabled him to perform, are known to every one, but I could read the story a hundred times yet, so great is its childish beauty. Again, allied with this are his extreme tenderness and loving nature. In this life (Schlichtegroll’s, translated by Gombet) it is mentioned, “He would say ten times a day to those about him, ‘Do you love me well?’ and whenever in jest they said ‘No,’ the tears would roll down his cheeks.” I remember to have read elsewhere an anecdote of the same engaging character. “One day, when Mozart, (then in his seventh year,) was entering the presence chamber of the empress, he fell and hurt himself. The other young princesses laughed, but Marie Antoinette took him up, and consoled him with many caresses. The little Mozart said to her, “You are good; I will marry you.” Well for the lovely princess, if common men could have met and understood her lively and genial nature as genius could, in its childlike need of love.
With this great desire for sympathy in the affections was linked, as by nature it should be, an entire self-reliance in action. Mozart knew nothing but music; on that the whole life of his soul was shed, but there he was as unerring and undoubting, as fertile and aspiring.
“At six years of age, sitting down to play in presence of the emperor Francis, he addressed himself to his majesty and asked; ‘Is not M. Wagenseil here? We must send for him; he understands the thing.’
