Yes, truly,' replied Mr Courtal; some sage Urganda, who had erewhile been the guardian of Amadis de Gaul, or Don Belianis of Greece, or the mountain-fellows that went about righting of Fleximarte of Hyrcania, or haply Beldonivos of wrongs and redressing of grievances, and behanged to them, without submitting the cases to trial by jury-envious of the happiness of one, whose vocation it is to stop such unlawful and irregular modes of administering justice-hath played me this prank.' But be serious, Mr Courtal,' said Maria, and tell me how you lost sight of me.' We are of opinion, that one of the objects of this work is to recommend certain religious views and feelings, concerning the benefit and ultimate tendency of which, men think very differently; and that works of imagination are out of their place on such debateable 'If I were to be as serious as a man with a gray ground. There is a great deal, and we hope mare in his house-(out upon all gray mares, I say, at board or at manger)-I could not alter one tittle it is the most important part of our religion, of my tale. My horse went unaccountably lame, about which the wise and good of all sects and on entering the wood I found I had lost you. and parties are agreed, and the necessity A young cockatrice of a boy-(I trust I may see the and benefit of which should be enforced, or lying limb of Satan before a grand jury some day or insinuated, in any way that has any chance other)-gave me a wrong direction, which led me, of being effectual; but we think it a ques-ere I was aware, to a piece of swampy ground crossed, and cut, and slashed by ditches half drained. tionable policy to diminish this chance, by In short, after having been stained with the variashackling what is undisputed, with any tion of an hundred mudholes, I at length got through, thing, of which the utility is matter of and by mere good luck made my way to this house serious controversy. pelted indeed by the pitiless storm-but, finding you safe, most incomparable lady, I have only to add, • begone, my cares, I give you to the wind."' The words marked by italics, in this extract, which many of our readers will recog nise as those of Counsellor Pleydell, are not distinguished in the novel by marks of quotation. This liberty can only be defended by considering the Scottish novels as standing on the same ground with Shakspeare, or other acknowledged classics-an assumption which we can hardly admit, at so early a period of their immortality. Our readers may expect, after this long discussion, that we should offer some illustration of our opinions in the shape of extracts. With this demand, however reasonable, we find some difficulty in complying, since our objections are of such a general nature, that their force is to be estimated by a perusal of the whole, or a large part of the work, rather than by that of insulated portions. One selection, however, we shall make, as it serves to illustrate our criticism on the character of Mr Courtal. The reader will understand that Miss Belcour has been run away with by a mare, whom the lawyer had incautiously purchased, and still more incautiously recommended for her riding. She has been rescued from a perilous situation by Percy, with whom she is found in a cottage by Mr Courtal; who expresses his relief at the discovery in strong terms, to which she replies as follows. to this storm.' I am safe, quite safe,' said the young lady, scarcely less affected than himself, at beholding an emotion so unexpected: I was so fortunate as to leap off at a spot where I found this gentleman, by whose polite attention I have escaped exposure The gentleman,' said Mr Courtal, endeavouring to recover his usual manner, was in luck. Well, this is his day-another may be mine. He will mark it, I doubt not, with a white stone: though I never yet knew these "speluncam Dido, dux et Trojanus eandum" affairs come to much good. There are no limbs broke, yet there may be a breaking of something else-eh, Percy!' Mr Percy said, with gravity, he hoped there was nothing to apprehend. not. Oh, I dare believe, on second thoughts, there is You will escape scot-free, for 'tis as hard to find a heart that will break as a glass that will not. Mr Percy made an unsuccessful effort to smile at this sally, and then asked how it happened Mr Courtal lost sight of the lady. By enchantment,' said Mr Courtal; which, if any gentleman, knight, or even 'squire denies, I appeal him to the combat. Why, sir, when the witch of a mare which Miss Belcour rode, flew away, as Pindar says, light as a bullet from a purely mental; and that, with regard to the mind and its operations, people were different to the analytic method, as if Bacontent to grope on in the old way, as incon had never thought nor written. But nothing, we presume, would strike this father of experimental philosophy with common consent, his method had been exmore astonishment than the fact, that, by cluded from the process of instruction; that where he might have expected his views to be best appreciated and most readily embraced, and where they could most speedily and effectually have accomplished a revolution in the history of human knowledge, they had been treated with the utmost neglect. To be satisfied that our statement of the case is no exaggeration, one has but to cast a glance at the method of instruction adopted in most of our schools, and developed in most school books. With a few exceptions, very lately introduced, the learner is first presented with a general or synthetic view of the science he is studying, and afterwards with the particulars of which it consists; a course which completely inverts the order of our quotation from Bacon. Let others think as they may, we have, for our own part, no hesitation in avowing our conviction, that, in the business of instruction, days and years of valuable time are commonly mispent in following the course prescribed by systematized error, and that the true method of teaching is but dawning upon us. We are sanguine enough, however, to believe that the light which is now glimmering upon this subject, will soon cast a fuller radiance; and when this shall be, what improvements, what discoveries in science, may we not expect from Suggestions on Education; relating partic-minds which, from their first glimpses of ularly to the Method of Instruction com- knowledge up to their highest acquirements, monly adopted in Geography, History, have been trained and formed by the disGrammar, Logic, and the Classics. New cipline of analysis? Haven. 1823. We would not, however, be understood "WE should then have reason to hope well as saying that the synthetic method is useof the sciences, when we rise, by continued less,-far from it. Synthesis is an excelsteps, to inferior axioms, and then to the mid-lent, an indispensable thing in its place; dle, and only at last to the most general." that is to say, as the best method of recaWe have repeatedly intimated our belief, pitulating and reviewing what we have that the spirit of this remark of Bacon's was learned,-not however as the best way to intended, by its illustrious author, to have an acquire knowledge. Every treatise intendapplication coextensive with human knowl-ed for the communication of knowledge to edge. He never meant that analysis the young, should no doubt contain a synshould be restricted to the science of mat-thetic view of its subject; but this view ter, and excluded from that of mind. Could should follow, and not precede the analysis, that venerable lawgiver in philosophy rise-it should be found at the end, and not at the from the stillness of his grave, and look upon the occupations of scientific men of our day, he would, we imagine, be fully as much puzzled as pleased. He would find that, whilst his method of investigation was extolled to the highest, his track in the paths of science professedly followed with undeviating constancy, his name adorned with every epithet of human eloquence, and his memory almost worshipped, his authority was really acknowledged in but one department; that, whilst his sway was undisputed in natural science, there was the utmost aversion to it in whatever is beginning of the book. For a specimen of this arrangement, we might refer our readers to the Latin Grammar, published by the author of the pamphlet now before us, and reviewed in the Gazette for October 1st. In that work, an analysis of every depart ment of Latin grammar is first given; and, at the end of every part, and at the conclusion of the whole, is an interrogatory synthesis. This is the natural and untramelled order of the mind, in the acquisition of knowledge. The subject is, in the first place, reduced to its simplest parts: these are studied, one by one; and when the science has been, in this way, thoroughly analyzed, to arrange the whole matter synthetically, is a useful exercise both of the judgment and of the memory. In a word, we believe analysis to be the only true method of acquiring knowledge, whether the learner is a child or a philosopher, and synthesis the best and the easiest way of retaining what is acquired. We have been led into these remarks by the pamphlet before us. The title page of the essay will show that the contents are of a very miscellaneous character,-perhaps too much so. It would have been better for the author to have restricted himself to the advantages of the analytic method, in the sciences on which he touches. Still, we like to see practical remarks in any form, on a subject so important; and some of those which are presented in this pamphlet may be very useful in places where education has not attained even to the de mind is accessible to instruction, and where objects Geography is the first branch of educa Locke represents education as intended to produce two results-to facilitate, first, the acquisition, secondly, the communication of knowledge. Now, would it naturally be believed that, in the face of this correct and simple arrangement, the superintendants of education would, through ignorance or ..negligence, invert the order of the abovementioned points, and thus involve themselves in the absurdity of teaching youth to express ideas, before teaching them to think? But what is the fact? Turn to almost any school, and you will find the answer, when you see that the first book which is put into the hands of a child that has just learned to read, is an English Grammar, from which the scholar is to learn the rts of speaking and writing. The order of nature is, first learn to think, and then learn to communicate your thoughts; but the order of education is, first learn to communicate your thoughts, and then learn to think. 323 commends a similar course of lessons. We are fully convinced that it would be much more entertaining and useful to the scholars of all our schools, to begin with the history of Boston, instead of the origin of the human race, the origin of society, and the other remote topics usually discussed at the commencement of a course of general history. In Blair's "Mother's Catechism," we have a good specimen of the plan recommended, applied to the instruction of very young children. Musical Biography: or, Sketches of the Lives and Writings of Eminent Musical Characters. Interspersed with an Epitome of Interesting Musical Matter. Collated and compiled by John R. Parker. Boston. 1825. 8vo. pp. 250. On the existing plan of instruction in this branch, a book professedly simplified to the capacity of children, is put into the hands of the young beginner. He opens it for his first lesson, and finds it begin with a view of the universe, or an exposition of the Newtonian system, involving mathematical terms which are of course utterly unintelligible to him; and when his lesson is got and recited, he knows just as little of practical geography as before. There are two positive objections to this A mode of instruction. It degrades the operations of the great principles of scientific research, which the mind into mere unmeaning rote. It opposes are acknowledged in every other mental pursuit. It is, in fact, nothing but an adherence to the exploded system which made a knowledge of generals a sure key to the understanding of particulars. We need not the weighty authority of Dr The plan suggested by the author is too Johnson to persuade us, that no kind of gree of practical excellence which it has long for insertion. It amounts however to reading is so generally interesting as biogin our vicinity. We will confine ourselves, this. Instead of beginning with geography, raphy. If tolerably well written, the life of however, to those parts of the essay which let a child learn, in the first place, the de- an eminent man, whether he be distinguished advocate the analytic method of instruc- tails of topography as applied to the place from the commonalty by his character or tion. We fully agree with the author, of his nativity or of his residence. When that if Locke's definition of the purposes he is become familiar with these, let him interest and gratify all classes of readers. by the events of his life, can hardly fail to of education is correct, most school books proceed to chorography, and become ac- Every one, whose mind is forcibly bent into and most teachers are wrong. quainted with every thing which it should a peculiar direction by his habits of intelteach him regarding his own state and coun- lectual action and enjoyment, will have try. Let him, last of all, take up geogra- necessarily his favourite books and studies. phy, and begin, not at Herschel, nor at the The metaphysician loves to pore over the Sun, but at the quarter of the world in last work of some mighty master in "the which he lives, and so extend his knowl-science of puzzling and being puzzled ;"edge of the science, till he is able to take the natural philosopher or historian leaves those general views of the subject, which mind for matter, and finds no pleasure in constitute a synthesis. On this plan, a bewildering himself with the vague uncerchild in Boston would be taught, first, the tainties of the intellectual world;—and the situation of his native city, then every in- statesman or politician feels a complacent teresting and instructive particular which contempt for all pursuits which are no way usually enters into a topographical sketch. connected with public matters, and throw He would then proceed to the county; no light upon the noble art of getting up in thence, to the state, and to the Union. In the world. But all these classes are limited, this way a thorough foundation would be and the books which are made for them are laid for subsequent enlargement of his geo- made for none beside them. With the hisgraphical knowledge; and, in the mean tories of individuals, of their actions, their The usual plea in justification of the com- time, he would be put in possession of a com- fortunes, their conditions, it is far otherwise. mon method of instruction is, that in early plete practical acquaintance with what is D'Israeli remarks, in his Curiosities of Litchildhood something is wanted, on which to most useful to him in the science he is ac-erature, if we do not misrecollect, that, exexercise and discipline the mind; that it is quiring. We should like much to see such cepting the Bible, no books have passed no matter what you take for this purpose; a course adopted with a class of learners. through so many editions as Robinson Cruand that at any rate the languages suit it We feel persuaded, that if a fair specimen soe and The Pilgrim's Progress; now both of very well. Now it is true that we do want of this kind could be exhibited, it would af- these books relate purely to fictitious events, something on which to discipline the raw ford the best argument for practical ana- and one is strictly allegorical; but they are mind; but do we therefore want the hard- lytic instruction, that its advocates could still of the nature of biographies. All perest exercise that we can select? Because present. We agree with the author in say-sonal tales, all stories which tell of remarkbodily exercise is beneficial to the healthing that able incidents that befel individuals, or of children, do we set them to hard la- This mode of teaching geography, besides being deeply striking traits of character, or debour? adapted to the capacity of the youngest learner, scribe singular performances, whether they tends to communicate that practical cast of knowl- are novels and romances, claiming to be edge which is so useful in life. Lessons in geog wholly fictitious, or strictly veracious biraphy, when taught in this way, bear as near a resemblance as possible to the interesting recitals of ographies, have one thing in common. of a country, and seen every object which he de- they are lost in the mazes, or obscured in an individual who has travelled through every part They treat of men-and not of men as scribes; and, above all, it gives the pupil a thor- the distance of history, but as they live and the topography, of the place of his nativity or of ough acquaintance with the geography, or rather move around us. They exhibit one who is his residence. Of what use is it to teach a child allied to us by a kindred nature, in circumthe day, or the year, or the distance of Herschel, stances which excite interest and attention. whilst you leave him ignorant of the road on which That sympathy which belongs to us as huhe daily walks, the river that flows by his door, or man beings, makes us find pleasure in folthe situati. n of his own birthplace? lowing, with our imagination, the footsteps For learners in history the author re- of a brother, through good and evil fortune. Another view of this subject will make it plain, that the present arrangement of education leads the mind in a direction contrary to the order of nature. The young learner is introduced first into the mental, and then into the material world. Now the first glimpses of thought and the first awakening of curiosity, in the mind of a child, are caused by external objects. The movements of thought pass unconscious and unheeded, at that early stage of being, in which all that is interesting in exist ence is bounded by the circle of the senses. Intellectual objects appear only as a shadowy something, which never rises into any thing more definite than the form of mystery. Education, therefore, must not begin here; it must begin where the and our love of novelty is gratified by the it may be technical, and so we shall say stances related of this remarkable man's The Life of Haydn comes next, and rather amazed us,-nor are we sure that we rightly understand it. We suppose the compiler gathered his facts where he could, and put them together in his own way,-giving credit for paragraphs and long passages; especially as the Introduction says, "We [i. e. the compiler] have detailed their history [Handel's, Haydn's, and Mozart's] with a minuteness that we could scarcely allow to others." Judge then, gentle readers, with what surprise we read such passages as these, which differ in no respect of typographical arrangement or appearance from their neighbours. But a biography, which has selected all its subjects from one class of men, as it may hope to interest readers of that class more than a more general work, it must pay for this privilege by giving pleasure to a narrower circle. The book now before us is a "Musical Biography,"-that is to say, it is a biography of men and women, who were eminent for making music. To them who are especial lovers of sweet sounds; it may be exceedingly interesting; but we must submit to all the reproach which may be merited by composed (in 1774) an Oratorio entitled Tobias, an Long before Haydn rose to the Creation, he had the admission, that the toil of reading for indifferent performance, two or three passages of the purpose of reviewing it, has not been which only, announces the great master. You altogether a labour of love. The author Handel's music: he learned from the works of the know that while in London, Haydn was struck with seems disposed to throw off all responsi- English musician, the art of being majestic. One bility, excepting so much as attaches to day at Prince Schwartzenberg's when Handel's him in the character of compiler; but we Messiah was performed, upon expressing my adare authorized to say, that even this bur-miration of one of the sublime chorusses of that then, light though it be, is not borne with work, Haydn said to me thoughtfully, This man remarkable grace or success. But we prois the father of us all.' ceed to a more particular account of the contents of this volume,—and shall endeavour to give such extracts as may save us from the necessity of expressing an opinion of its literary merits. After the Dedication and Introduction, the body of the work begins with the Life of Handel; which is very respectably put together, and relates many facts which most people who have taken the trouble to learn any thing about Handel, are acquainted with. A note to page 17, relates an amus ing anecdote of this great musician. This celebrated composer, though of a very robust and uncouth external appearance, yet had such a remarkable irritability of nerves, that he could not bear to hear the tuning of instruments, arrived. A musical wag, who knew how to extract some mirth from his irascibility of temper, stole into the orchestra on a night when the Prince of Wales was to be present at the performance of a new Oratorio, and untuned all the instruments, some half a note, others a whole note lower than the organ. As soon as the prince arrived, Handel gave the signal of beginning conspirito, but such was the horrible discord, that the enraged musician started up from his seat, and having overturned a double bass which stood in his way, he seized a kettle In the beginning of the year 1798, the Oratorio was completed; and in the following Lent, it was performed, for the first time, in the rooms of the Schwartzenberg palace, at the expense of the Dilettanti Society, who had requested it from the author. Who can describe the applause, the delight, the enthusiasm of this society. I was present; and 1 can assure you, I never witnessed such a scene The flower of the literary and musical society of Vienna were assembled in the room, which was well adapted to the purpose, and Haydn himself directed the orchestra. The most profound silence, the most scrupulous attention, a sentiment I might almost say of religious respect, were the disposi tions which prevailed when the first stroke of the disappointed. A long train of beauties, to that bow was given. The general expectation was not moment unknown, unfolded themselves before us; our minds, overcome with pleasure and admiration, * * * * Mozart was scarcely three years old when his father began to give lessons on the harpsichord to his sister, who was then seven. His astonishing His delight was to seek for thirds on the piano, and disposition for music immediately manifested itsel nothing could equal his joy when he had found this harmonious chord. The minute details into which I am about to enter, will, I presume, be interesting to the reader. When he was four years old, his father began to teach him, almost in sport, some minuets, and other pieces of music, an occupation which was as agreeble to the master, as to the pupil. Mozart would learn a minuet in half an hour, and a piece of greater extent in less than twice that time. Immediately after, he played them with the greatest clearness, and perfectly in time. In less than a year, he made such rapid progress, that, at áve years old, he already invented little pieces of music, which he played to his father, and which the latter, in order to encourage the rising talent of his son, was at the trouble of writing down. * * A short time afterwards, Wenzl, a skilful violin player, who had then just begun to compose, came to Mozart, the father, to request his observations on six trios, which he had written during the journey of the former to Vienna. Schachtner, the ticularly attached, happened to be at the house, and archbishop's trumpeter, to whom Mozart was parwe give the following anecdote in bis words: Wenzl the first violin, and I was to play the second. The father,' said Schachtner, played the bass, sented. ་ and therefore this was always done before Handel experienced during two successive hours, what they Mozart requested permission to take this last part; had rarely felt,-a happy existence, produced by desires ever lively, ever renewed, and never dis-but his father reproved him for this childish demand, appointed. observing, that as he had never received any reguOn my return to the Austrian capital, I have to lar lessons on the violin, he could not possibly play inform you, my dear friend, that the larva of Haydn to him necessary to receive lessons in order to play it properly. The son replied, that it did not appear has also quitted us. That great man no longer ex- the second violin. His father, half angry at this ists, except in our memory. I have often told you, reply, told him to go away, and not interrupt us. that he was become extremely weak before he en-Wolfgang was so hurt at this, that he began to cry tered his seventy-eighth year. It was the last of bitterly. As he was going away with his little violin, his life. I begged that he might be permitted to play with me, A few weeks after his death, Mozart's requiem was performed in honour of him, in the Scotch and the father, with a good deal of difficulty, conchurch. I ventured into the city, to attend this with M. Schachtner, on condition that you play very Well, said he to Wolfgang, you may play ceremony. I saw there some generals and admin-softly, and do not let yourself be heard: otherwise, istrators of the French army, who appeared affected I shall send you out directly. We began the trio, with the loss which the arts had just sustained. I little Mozart playing with me, but it was not long recognized the accents of my native land, and spoke before I perceived, with the greatest astonishment, to several of them; and, among others, to an amia- that I was perfectly useless. Without saying any ble man, who wore that day the uniform of the thing, I laid down my violin, and looked at the Institute of France, which I thought very elegant. father, who shed tears of affection at the sight.— The child played all the six trios in the same manner. The commendations we gave him, made him humor him, we let him try, and could not forbear pretend that he could play the first violin. To laughing on hearing him execute this part, very imperfectly, it is true, but still so as never to be set fast.' drum, which he threw with such violence at the head of the leader of the band, that he lost his full bottomed wig by the effort; without waiting to replace it, he advanced bareheaded to the front of the orchestra, breathing vengeance, but so much choaked with passion that utterance denied him. In this ridiculous attitude he stood staring and stamping for some minutes amidst a convulsion of laughter, nor could he be prevailed on to resume his seat till the prince went personally to appease his wrath, which he with great difficulty accomplished. Here follow remarks on Handel's music; and we are somewhat afraid to talk much of them, lest we should expose our ignorance too plainly. For instance, we might object a little to the phrase "effects [which] he has worked up"-which phrase Mr Parker "works up" most unsparingly; but Now if all this be as it would seem, we have nothing more to say about it; but if, as we are tempted to suspect, these passages are quoted verbatim from some body's letter, we venture to recommend to Mr Parker, to show in his next edition, by marks of quotation, or otherwise, that "I," does not in these cases mean the "the Compiler." * * Mozart never reached his natural growth. During his whole life, his health was delicate. He was Then follows the Life of Mozart, and it unusual, there was nothing striking in his physingthin and pale: and though the form of his face was is quite well done. The singular circum-nomy, but its extreme variableness. The express ion of his countenance changed every moment, but indicated nothing more than the pleasure or pain which he experienced at the instant. He was remarkable for a habit which is usually the attendant of stupidity. His body was perpetually in motion; he was either playing with his hands, or beating the ground with his foot. There was nothing extraordinary in his other habits, except his extreme fondness for the game of billiards. He had a table in his house, on which he played every day by himself, when he had not any one to play with. His hands were so habituated to the piano, that he was rather clumsy in every thing beside. At table, he never carved, or if he attempted to do so, it was with much awkwardness and difficulty. His wife usually undertook that office. The same man, who from his earliest age, had shewn the greatest expansion of mind in what related to his art, in other respects remained always a child. He never knew how properly to conduct himself. The management of domestic affairs, the proper use of money, the judicious selection of his pleasures, and temperance in the enjoyment of them, were never virtues to his taste. "The gratification of the moment was always uppermost with him. His mind was so absorbed by a crowd of ideas, which rendered him incapable of all serious reflection, that, during his whole life, he stood in need of a guardian to take care of his temporal affairs. His father was well aware of his weakness in this respect, and it was on this account that he persuaded his wife to follow him to Paris, in 1777, his engagements not allowing him to leave Salzburg himself. * Mozart judged his own works with impartiality, and often with a severity, which he would not easily have allowed in another person. The emperor Joseph II., was fond of Mozart, and had appointed him his maître de chapelle; but this prince pretended to be a dilettante. His travels in Italy had given him a partiality for the music of that country, and the Italians who were at his court did not fail to keep up this preference, which, I must confess, appears to me to be well founded. These men spoke of Mozart's first essays with more jealousy than fairness, and the emperor, who scarcely ever judged for himself, was easily carried away by their decisions. One day, after hearing the rehearsal of a comic opera (die Entfuhrung aus dem Serail), which he had himself demanded of Mozart, he said to the composer: 'My dear Mozart, him fairy tales, and odd stories, which made him laugh till the tears came. The punch, however, made him so drowsy, that he could only go on while his wife was talking, and dropped asleep as soon as she ceased. The efforts which he made to keep himself awake, the continual alternation of sleep and watching, so fatigued him, that his wife persuaded him to take some rest, promising to awake him in an hour's time. He slept so profoundly, that she suffered him to repose for two hours. At five o'clock in the morning, she awoke him. He had appointed the music-copiers to come at seven, and by the time they arrived, the overture was finished. They had scarcely time to write out the copies necessary for the orchestra, and the musicians were obliged to play it without a rehearsal. Some persons pretend that they can discover in this overture the passages where Mozart dropt asleep, and those where he suddenly awoke again. There are few who have any fondness for music and have not heard of Mozart's requiem. The singular circumstances attending the composition of this beautiful piece of music, were related in an interesting work, recently published, from which Mr Parker appears to have borrowed very largely. These facts may be fresh in the recollection of many of our readers; but they will pardon our quoting them for the benefit of others, to whom they will be new. After all, perhaps there is nothing in these circumstances so striking as the superstitious feeling which invested them with such fearful importance. One day, when he was plunged in a profound reverie, he heard a carriage stop at his door. A stranger was announced, who requested to speak to him. A person was introduced, handsomely dressed, of dignified and impressive manners. have been commissioned, sir, by a man of considerWho is he?' able importance, to call upon you.' interrupted Mozart. He does not wish to be known.'-Well, what does he want?-He has just lost a person whom he tenderly loved, and whose memory will be eternally dear to him. He is desirous of annually commemorating this mourn more than I expected, and I have extended it much beyond what I at first designed.' 'In this case, it is but just to increase the premium; here are fifty ducats more.'-'Sir,' said Mozart, with increasing astonishment, who then are you? That is nothing to the purpose; in a month's time I shall return.' Mozart immediately called one of his servants, and ordered him to follow this extraordinary personage, and find out who he was; but the man failed for want of skill, and returned without being able to trace him. Poor Mozart was then persuaded that he was no ordinary being; that he had a connexion with the other world, and was sent to announce to him his approaching end. He applied himself with the more ardour to his Requiem, which he regarded as the most durable monument of his genius. While thus employed, he was seized with the most alarming fainting fits, but the work was at length completed before the expiration of the month. At the time appointed, the stranger returned, but Mozart was no more. A host of lesser names follow the three great leaders. We have not room to speak of them particularly, and shall not pretend to judge of the value of the scientific remarks which are scattered through the volume. Of its literary merits, we must say a word or two. Among the lives, are those of some individuals, of whom nothing has been printed which afforded an opportunity for compilation, and Mr Parker, as we presume, in these cases claims the merit and abides the responsibility of authorship. In these lives, such passages as this, which begins the life of the late Mr T. S. Webb, may sometimes be found. This gentleman was a distinguished amateur in music, and attained a high degree of celebrity, having been appointed the first President of the Boston Handel and Haydn Society, an institution under whose auspices, were laid a foundation which aspires to an eminent rank among the first of musical societies in this country. And this, in the Life of Mrs Ostinelli, late some measure puzzle Mrs Ostinelli to comprehend precisely. that is too fine for my ears; there are too many ful event by a solemn service, for which he requests Miss Hewitt,-which we fancy it would in notes there.I ask your majesty's pardon,' replied Mozart, drily; there are just as many notes as there should be be.' The emperor said nothing, and appeared rather embarrassed by the reply; but when the opera was performed, he bestowed on it the greatest encomiums. * * * The time which he most willingly employed in composition, was the morning, from six or seven o'clock till ten, when he got up. After this, he did no more the rest of the day, unless he had to finish a piece that was wanted. He always worked very irregularly. When an idea struck him, he was not to be drawn from it. If he was taken from the piano forte, he continued to compose in the midst of his friends, and passed whole nights with his pen in his hand. At other times, he had such a disinclination to work, that he could not complete a piece till the moment of its performance. It once happened that he put off some music which he had engaged to furnish for a court concert, so long, that he had not time to write out the part which he was to perform himself. The emperor Joseph, who was peeping every where, happening to cast his eyes on the sheet which Mozart seemed to be playing from, was surprised to see nothing but empty lines, and said him: Where's your part? Here,' replied Mo art, putting his hand to his forehead. you to compose a requiem.' Mozart was forcibly struck by this discourse, by the grave manner in which it was uttered, and by the air of mystery in which the whole was involved. He engaged to write the requiem. The stranger continued, Employ all your genius on this work; it is destined for a connoisseur.' 'So much the better. What time do you require?'-A month.'-' -'Very well: in a month's time I shall return.-What price do you set on your work?'-' A hundred ducats stranger counted them on the table, and disappeared. The Mozart remained lost in thought for some time; he then suddenly called for pen, ink, and paper, and, in spite of his wife's entreaties, began to write. This rage for composition continued several days; he wrote day and night, with an ardour which seemed continually to increase; but his constitution, already in a state of great debility, was unable to support his enthusiasm: one morning, he fell senseless, and was obliged to suspend his work. Two or three days after, when his wife sought to divert his mind from the gloomy presages which occupied it, he said to her abruptly: It is certain that I am writing this Requiem for myself; it will serve for my funeral service.' Nothing could remove this impression from his mind. She indicates a becoming rigour of feminine modesty in the picturing of her imagination, as evinced in the intellectual dominion over the art, than an exuberant degree of enthusiastic imagina tion. But the most remarkable among them is that which closes the biographical part of the volume. It is rather a suspicious circumstance, when a gentleman, upon entering a room, finds it necessary to begin his remarks with an apology for being there. We are not able to say how far Mr Parker was bound to put together so many excuses for his daring, in the instance before us, but we have a decided opinion, that if they were necessary, this life ought to have been omitted. Besides many other paragraphs, full of reasons for what he was about to do, Mr Parker lays down the following eight in a period of twenty-seven lines. The same circumstance nearly occurred with reTo exonerate ourselves, however, from all pospect to the overture of Don Juan. It is generally As he went on, he felt his strength diminish from sible imputation of premature officiousness, or steemed the best of his overtures; yet it was only day to day, and the score advanced slowly. The breach of delicacy; we fain would impress, on the omposed the night previous to the first representa- month which he had fixed, being expired, the too scrupulous, our own conviction, that we ought ion, after the general rehearsal had taken place. stranger again made his appearance. I have not have sacrificed to mere punctilios so precious About eleven o'clock in the evening, when he re- found it impossible,' said Mozart, to keep my an opportunity to present to the lovers of harmony ired to his apartment, he desired his wife to make word.' 'Do not give yourself any uneasiness,' replied with an abstract yet grateful object of contemplaim some punch, and to stay with him, in order to the stranger; what further time do you require?'-tion; to encourage bashful talent by showing how eep him awake. She accordingly began to tell'Another month. The work has interested me much may be accomplished, where such talents 326 praise cannot be too high. This memoir less and unattractive. exist, without prejudice to other essential acquire- our native town, by proclaiming of what exquisite Here we have, with an apology for writing The first attempt to instruct her, at the age of six, was after a few trials, abandoned as too onerous. The second, only a year after, proved decisive. Her talents unfolded themselves with a rapidity that, at the first onset, outstriped the regular pace of tuition. Every new lesson was learned with such expeditious ease, as to render indispensable the intervening burthen of home instruction, which placed her several pages in advance of the ensuing lesson, and which daily increasing, made it at last an act of justice to unite the credit with the labour Accordingly she became exclusively the pupil of her own father, who found himself thus unexpect edly compelled to teach, while he himself had yet to learn; the piano-forte not being an instrument on which he is a distinguished amateur. We cannot understand this passage, unless it means that Miss Eustaphieve learned so rapidly that the ordinary masters of the art were left behind, and Mr Eustaphieve was compelled to learn music himself, that he might keep so far in advance of her progress, as to supply her with guidance and instruction,-in which case, we should think the talents of Miss Eustaphieve came to her by inheritance. But it would seem that Miss Eustaphieve performs admirably as pianiste (to use a phrase, the invention of which we accredit to Mr Parker-per haps in ignorance), but she does not comRose. In connexion with this fact, Mr Parker makes the following remarks; and we regret to say, that we have so little music in our souls, that the imagery employed seems rather forcible than exact. Theseus the groping hero, and Ariadne the tutelar spirit leading him out of the labyrinth, present a just emblem of that close alliance which subsists between the great composer and the great performer, and which elevates the latter far above the mere mechanism of execution. Nay, a composer of moderate reputation is absolutely inferior to a performer of rare, but acknowledged merit; as it requires much less genius to constitute the one, than seize, as does the other, the master-key of mysterious machinery and Poems, by Sumner Lincoln Fairfield. New By Sumner L. Fair- field. Portland, 1824. sons. WHEN the first of these books was sent to us sometime ago, we were so untrue to our duty, as to determine not to notice it. For this determination we had several reaWe knew something of Sumner L. Fairfield, and were unwilling to wound the feelings of the man by saying what we thought of his writings; nor did it seem necessary, as we believed that the work had fallen "still-born from the press," and we hoped its failure would discourage its author from a second attempt. That hope has been disappointed; and when the other two books were put, almost at the same moment, into our hands; when we saw that the author, by his pertinacity, was forcing himself into notice; when, worst of all, we perceived a disposition in some, not merely to pardon, but even to praise his productions, we thought that we ought no longer to keep silence, but do the little that we could to protect the literature of our country from the disgrace of having works like these thrust upon the public and pass unreproved. We are sorry to be compelled to this; but feeling ourselves bound to notice these books, we feel equally bound to tell our readers what they are. The first of these volumes contains very many pieces, of which some are in verse, and some in what the author no doubt meant for verse, and is introduced by a fantastic preface, from which we learn three things; first, that the poems, as they are called, were written at the age of nineteen; next, that the author would rather have them condemned, than treated with contempt; and lastly, that he disapproves of immoral writers. One extract from the preface will serve as a specimen of Mr Fairfield's prose. Beneath the ornate ve Lurk thoughts no m Dark dash the lava flo Ah! fiery billows r The mimic smile, like Hides the deep deat The dying swan doth On Nature's ear in It cannot be ex should review seve From most of them vain an endeavour t from the stanza we some reason to supp made by the patent cification may be for to Laputa. Can a doubt, for instance, were put into thei machinery? There's a crystalline c hills, Where the perch and flashing rills, And dandelions blush a The air, and carpet of quiet gloom. * There in the linden bananas spread, When the notes of weary head, Or rove along the peb dome, Where fiery billows n |