1843.]
Mozart.
Here ends the chapter of the “in fant phenomenon.” The charm was gone, for vulgar eyes. Inwardly the man had more than kept the promise of the child; but the world—then, as al ways, seeking for a “ sign”-—had no
eyes to see, nor ears to hear, this real miracle. The show was over : what market was there now for genuine me rit! The young man who at nineteen had won all the musical honors of Italy, whose fame filled Europe from London to Naples, as a composer in every de partment of his art, could not find a patron among all the thousands of mu sical noblemen in Germany. For three years he waited in his native city with the vain expectation of being appoint ed chapel-master. Then he started for Paris, his mother accompanying him, on account of his extreme ignorance of worldly affairs. He stopped at Mu nich and Augsburg by the way ; but one prince had no vacant place for him ; and another said, “ It is too early—let him go to Italy, and make to himself a
name.”
His letters to his father from
these places, full of sincerity and vivid perception of things and relations, and written ina simple and graceful style, show the struggle between his inward consciousness of superiority, and his perfect humility and nothingness in the great world. It was more than vanity, which compelled him to say, “ Let the prince come to the proof : let him as semble all the composers of Munich;
let him send for those of Italy, France, Germany, England, and Spain; I will engage with them all.” In Paris it was worse. The great did not deign
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knowledged as one who had the divine fire in him; still the world would not move at his bidding; still the natural consequences of what he was, and had
a right to expect, did not seem to fol low; still nobody bought what every body wanted; he called, but it would not sound; he was there, but his pre sence did not seem to cause any move ment, or displace any particle of mat ter, more than an incorporeal ghost; all was well willed and prepared on his part, and off he would start, but the foot seemed glued to the ground, as in a nightmare, and so, dismayed, he had tov learn the contradiction between the Ideal and the Actual.
In truth, hehad
not the inherent faculty of influence; he was not one of those Powers whom: all heads and hands involuntarily serve. A pale, diminutive young man,,with “ a, countenance remarkable for nothing but its variableness,” sensitive, nervous,» and awkward, seeking sympathy, but with nothing imposing about him. He; hadi not that moral magnetism, by which a Handel, a Napoleon, and his
own “ Don Juan,” always tell upon the world—always succeed, say what else youwill of it. We believe he understood himself, and did not care to quarrel
with a. higher will so plainly indicated. He despised ambition, and rather than cherish a love of influence for its own sake preferred to have no influence. Handel was ideal and commanding, both. But he was of another mould. Perhaps a man in whom sensibility is the main quality, should not have that
power.
Perhaps it is a wise fatalitly
which excludes him from all the vu ; to notice him; the musicians were gar politics of life, and postpones his jealous of him ; the opera-managers influence, that it may not strike, but thought only of catering for a low pub pervade and last forever. The world, lic taste; for even the great revolution by its very neglect, pays such charac in opera produced by Gluck, had not ters the highest compliment, by seem yet taken efi'ect. To add to his mis ing to take for granted that they are fortunes he lost his mother, and he left the peculiar care of heaven. And so Paris with a heavy heart, renewing his they are. It is mysterious how they vain applications in different places by live without “getting along,” how they glide through circumstances as calmly the way, for home. Mozart, the ad miration 0f the world, could not even as the moon through clouds, maki with great pains obtain the situation of the clouds look beautiful. And Mozart music-teacher to the children of the so felt it. In one those letters to his fa-. Elector of Mentz, worth forty pounds ther he closes thus : “ My best re ards a year! This is not a rare case in the to my dear father, and many than. s for histor of genius. Real greatness and the compliment which he paid me on the talent of succeeding are separable my birth-day. Let him feel no anxiety; things, not inconsistent with each other, I never lose sight of my God—I ac also not essential to each other. Mo knowledge his power; dreadhis wrath ; zart was admired, and everywhere ac but at the same time, love to admire his
