velopes its principles in their full extent, and the outlines of the application to which they lead. There is no idea of comparison between what is explored and what is yet to be explored in this science. The ancient Greeks placed mathematics at the head of their education. But we are glad to have filled our memory with notions, without troubling ourselves much with reasoning about them."

Mr. Etzler is not one of the enlightened practical men, the pioneers of the actual, who move with the slow deliberate tread of science, conserving the world; who execute the dreams of the last century, though they have no dreams of their own; yet he deals in the very raw but still solid material of all inventions. He has more of the practical than usually belongs to so bold a schemer, so resolute a dreamer. Yet his success is in theory, and not in practice, and he feeds our faith rather than contents our understanding. His book wants order, serenity, dignity, everything, but it does not fail to impart what only man can impart to man of much importance, his own faith. It is true his dreams are not thrilling nor bright enough, and he leaves off to dream where he who dreams just before the dawn begins. His castles in the air fall to the ground, because they are not built lofty enough; they should be secured to heaven's roof. After all, the theories and speculations of men concern us more than their puny execution. It is with a certain coldness and languor that we loiter about the actual and so called practical. How little do the most wonderful inventions of modern times detain us. They insult nature. Every machine, or particular application, seems a slight outrage against universal laws. How many fine inventions are there which do not clutter the ground? We think that those only succeed which minister to our sensible and animal wants, which bake or brew, wash or warm, or the like. But are those of no account which are patented by fancy and imagination, and succeed so admirably in our dreams that they give the tone still to our waking thoughts? Already nature is serving all those uses which science slowly derives on a much higher and grander scale to him that will be served by her. When the sunshine falls on the path of the poet, he enjoys all those pure benefits and

pleasures which the arts slowly and partially realize from age to age. The winds which fan his cheek waft him. the sum of that profit and happiness which their lagging inventions supply.

The chief fault of this book is, that it aims to secure the greatest degree of gross comfort and pleasure merely. It paints a Mahometan's heaven, and stops short with singular abruptness when we think it is drawing near to the precincts of the Christian's,—and we trust we have not made here a distinction without a difference. Undoubtedly if we were to reform this outward life truly and thoroughly, we should find no duty of the inner omitted. It would be employment for our whole nature; and what we should do thereafter would be as vain a question as to ask the bird what it will do when its nest is built and its brood reared. But a moral reform must take place first, and then the necessity of the other will be superseded, and we shall sail and plough by its force alone. There is a speedier way than the Mechanical System can show to fill up marshes, to drown the roar of the waves, to tame hyænas, secure agreeable environs, diversify the land, and refresh it with "rivulets of sweet water," and that is by the power of rectitude and true behavior. It is only for a little while, only occasionally, methinks, that we want a garden. Surely a good man need not be at the labor to level a hill for the sake of a prospect, or raise fruits and flowers, and construct floating islands, for the sake of a paradise. He enjoys better pros pects than lie behind any hill. Where an angel travels it will be paradise all the way, but where Satan travels it will be burning marl and cinders. What says Veeshnoo Sunma? "He whose mind is at ease is possessed of all riches. Is it not the same to one whose foot is enclosed in a shoe, as if the whole surface of the earth were covered with leather ?"

He who is conversant with the supernal powers will not worship these inferior deities of the wind, the waves, tide, and sunshine. But we would not disparage the importance of such calculations as we have described. They are truths in physics, because they are true in ethics. The moral powers no one would presume to calculate. Suppose we could compare the moral with the physical, and say

MOZART has been called "the Raphael of Music." To feel his characteristics most, you should first hear Handel; then he is like moonlight after the broad noon-day sun, a warm, balmy summer's night, such as lovers choose, smiled upon by the pale moon, and yet a night when ghosts walk abroad, and disturbed by crackling, bloodshot meteoric lights.

He was born in Salzburg, in January, 1756, just three years before the death of Handel. His romantic story is better known, and is more of a story, than the lives of most of his brothers in the art. Some anecdotes of Mozart mingle with our childhood's recollections of Arabian tales and of whatsoever was ideal and marvellous to most of We briefly review it that it may be seen how much the music and the

us.

man were one..

He was the child of beautiful parents; which may account for his exquisite sensibility. His father was a musician of some note, second chapelmaster to the Prince Archbishop; and devoted his leisure to the musical culture of his two children. When the boy was three years old his sister, a little girl of seven, began to take lessons on the harpsichord. The boy was attracted by the instrument, and would delight to find out thirds upon it. At four he played correctly (and it is said with expression) simple airs and minuets which his father taught him. From four to six he actually composed these little things and dictated them to his father, who wrote them down. Many of these are preserved and published. His father going home one day with a friend, found the child very busily writing. He took from him a paper covered with blotches of ink, asking what it meant. "It is a concerto I am composing," said the boy; "I have finished the first part." The friend laughed at the droll make-believe; but the father looking at it more closely, exclaimed with delight: "These are indeed proper notes, and according to rule; but it is too difficult, nobody can execute it." "It is a concerto," said the boy; "it must be studied; this is VOL. XIII.-NO. LXV.

the way it goes," and tried in vain to play it himself. He was so finely organized that discords were unendurable to him; at the sound of a trumpet he turned pale and swooned. A year or two later he detected the difference of a half-a-quarter of a note in the pitch of a violin from what it was the day before. Moral and mental qualities corresponded. Extreme affectionateness-Ten times a day he would ask, are you sure you love me?" and if answered no, in sport, he would burst into tears. Love of knowledge,-for a period he even renounced his music and engaged eagerly in the usual studies of his age; and when he was learning arithmetic, the tables, chairs, floors and walls were covered with figures. music was the great passion. He was a sprightly, playful boy at first, but all this fled at the sound of that harpsichord; and ever after music was indispensable to all his amusements. The children used to carry their playthings in procession from rock to rock with him, one of the number singing or playing on a violin.

But

At the age of six, he was taken to Munich to play before the Elector, and to Vienna, where he astonished the Emperor Francis and his Court. The anecdotes told of this excursion, while they show how wondrously the plant unfolded new beauties every day, also show a modest independence and appreciation of himself. He would not play showy trifles, but he put his whole soul into it when he played before good judges, and he knew who they were. "Where is Mr. Wagenseil?" he said to the Emperor, as he sat down to the harpsichord; "he understands the thing; send for him ;" and the person in question, a distinguished composer, was made to take the Emperor's place by the piano. "Mr. Wagenseil, I am going to play one of your concertos, and you must turn over the leaves for me."

On their return to Salzburg, he took with him a little violin, which his father had bought him for a plaything in Vienna. On this he taught himself to play, as on the harpsichord. One day 30