There was a time, long ago, when people believed that fairies hovered
over a sleeping babe, and gave to the little one the charm of beauty,
or the joy of strength, or the power of genius.
[Illustration: MOZART]
If this were true, then fairies must have visited the cradle of little
Wolfgang Mozart. We might easily believe that one of them said, “I
shall give thee a loving heart;” and that another whispered, “Thou
shalt delight in sweet sounds; music shall be thy language.”
The little Mozart lived in Germany more than a hundred years ago. His
father was a musician, and his sister, Anna, had already made rapid
progress in music. At all of her lessons the baby brother was an
interested listener, and he often amused himself in trying to repeat
the exercises he had heard. Before he was four years old, he began to
compose music. His little pieces were written for him by his father, in
a book which was kept for that purpose.
One Sunday the father came home from church and found Wolfgang at a
table busy over a piece of paper. His fat little hand grasped the pen
with much firmness, and at every visit to the ink-bottle he plunged it
to the very bottom. The paper was very badly blotted with ink, but the
baby composer calmly wiped away the blots with his finger and wrote
over them.
[Illustration: MOZART PLAYING BEFORE THE QUEEN OF PRUSSIA]
“What are you doing there?” asked his father.
“Writing a piece of music for the piano,” replied Wolfgang.
“Let me see it.”
“No, no, it is not ready!”
The father took up the paper, and laughed at the big blots and the
notes which were scarcely readable. But upon looking over the work more
carefully, he saw that it was written according to rule, and that it
was a wonderful composition for so young a child.
The father now devoted all his time to the education of his two
children. They progressed so rapidly that they were a marvel to their
native town. When Anna was ten years old and Wolfgang six, they were
taken by their father and mother to Vienna, and there the Emperor
listened to their music. The courtiers and the royal family praised the
gifted children and filled their hands with costly presents.
Soon after their return home, a noted violinist called to ask Herr
Mozart’s opinion of some new music. As they were about to practise the
different parts, little Wolfgang begged to play second violin.
“You cannot join our rehearsal,” said his father. “You have had no
instruction on the violin.”
“I do not need any lessons to play second violin,” the boy persisted.
“Run away and do not disturb us,” was the father’s reply, and the
little boy walked out of the room, crying bitterly. The visitor begged
that the child be permitted to play with him, and Wolfgang was called
back.
“Play then,” said the father; “but play very softly.”
The child was comforted. He brushed away his tears and began playing,
softly at first, as he had been commanded; then he forgot everything
but the notes before him, and the music swelled higher and higher. All
were amazed, and tears of gladness stood in the father’s eyes.
Another concert tour was planned, and Wolfgang and his sister travelled
with their parents from city to city, giving concerts at the courts of
kings. Great crowds went to hear them, and everywhere they were greeted
with enthusiasm and delight.
When Wolfgang was eleven years old, he went to Italy to study music.
The fair, slender lad was looked upon as a marvel by the Italian
musicians. The father and son reached Rome at the time of the great
Easter festival. A beautiful piece of music had been set apart as
sacred to this yearly service. For two hundred years it had been
carefully guarded, and all musicians were forbidden to copy it.
Wolfgang listened intently; and when he came again the next day to the
church, he brought with him a folded paper on which he had written from
memory the whole of the sacred music.
“Truly such wonderful gifts come from Heaven!” said the priests, in awe
and admiration.
Mozart remained for nearly two years in Italy, studying with the finest
musicians and hearing the best music. After his return to his native
land, he continued his musical studies and gave his whole life to his
art.
It seems impossible that the boy, who in his early years received
such honors, should in his manhood meet poverty and neglect. Such
was Mozart’s sad fortune, but in spite of his discouragements he
struggled on, and became one of the greatest of musical composers.
He has given to the world a wealth of beauty that has made his name
immortal.--BERTHA LEARY SAUNDERS.