inflicted on others? If Veronica could but
have known, if she could but have foreseen!

As she thus thought, she entered the
house through the garden door, which
stood open. She was going into the sitting-
room, when she paused for a moment at
the sound of voices within.

"Go in, go in, Miss Maudie," said old
Joanna, who happened to be in the hall.
"You won't disturb no one. It's only that
poor creetur, Mr. Plew, a-talking to the
vicar."

          MOZART IN LONDON.

IN April, 1764, a German musician,
second chapel master to the Prince
Archbishop of Salzburg, arrived in England
from France, accompanied by his wife,
daughter, and son. The name of the son
was Johann Chrysostom Wolfgang Gottlieb
Mozart. He was a little musical phenomenon,
not altogether unknown to our
readers, and was then a child of eight. He
had begun to compose at four, and at six
had produced a difficult concerto. The
child, who had been playing at the different
German courts, had been petted by kings,
and kissed by empresses. He arrived
at Dover with chests full of presents;
swords, snuff-boxes, étuis, lace, and watches.
In Paris, the wonderful child had exhibited
at Versailles before the royal family, and
had been very angry with Madame de
Pompadour for not kissing him as the
Empress Maria Theresa had done. He had
also published four sonatas in the French
capital; and at public concerts he had
astonished the cognoscenti by playing at
sight any piece set before him.

The shrewd father hoped to rake in some
of our solid English gold, and the boy was
eager for fresh laurels. The family lodged
at the house of a Mr. Williamson, in Frith-
street, Soho: a foreign quarter, which
French refugees had already made their
own. Everything went well at first. The
king and queen heard the two children on
the 27th of April, and early in the next
month the boy played on the organ before
the king. The brother and sister also
performed ponderous double concertos on two
claviers, and Wolfgang sang several airs
with much expression. It was the custom to
try his powers by making him play at sight
elaborate pieces by Bach, Handel, Paradies,
&c. These he played smilingly, with swiftness,
neatness, and in perfect time and
style. John Christian Bach, music master
to the queen, to show what the little
genius could do, took him on one occasion
between his knees, and played a few bars
which the boy continued; thus alternating,
they played an entire sonata admirably.
The phenomenon's father was rather
disgusted at receiving only twenty-four
guineas for each of the royal concerts. But
what was wanting in money was made up
in affability; for the king and queen met
the family in St. James's Park, and waved
hands to them, and smiled and nodded.
The king usually selected for the child,
knotty pieces by Wagenseil, Abel, and
Handel. The young Mozart accompanied
the queen in an air which she graciously
deigned to play; and he then surprised the
delighted court by performing a melody
founded merely upon the bass of one of
Handel's melodies. Every day the child's
mind developed; every day he conquered
some fresh region of his art; he had already
written for the orchestra, and now he began
to compose symphonies. His father having
caught cold in returning from a concert at
Lord Thanet's, the marvellous boy amused
the invalid, while banished from his
instruments, by writing a piece for two violins,
two oboes, and two horns. "Remind me,"
said the little despot to his sister, who sat
near him copying, "that I give the horns
something good to do."

"The high and mighty Wolfgang,"
wrote the proud and delighted father,
"though only eight, possesses the
acquirements of a man of forty. In short,
only those who see and hear him can
believe in him; even you in Salzburg know
nothing about him, he is so changed." At
spare moments young Mozart chatted about
his German friends, or talked over an opera
he had planned, to be performed by his
acquaintances at Salzburg. From the most
intricate pieces of Bach or Handel, however,
the child turned away at the sight of
a sweetmeat or the mew of a favourite cat.
They would have burnt the child for a
witch in some mediaeval countries.

A concert in June frightened the prudent
father. The expenses threatened to be
forty guineas; but eventually most of the
musicians refused to take any money. To
gain the love of the English, the wily father
permitted Wolfgang to play at Ranelagh
for a patriotic charity. For better air,
probably, the family about this time removed
to Chelsea, and resided at the house of a
Mr. Randle, in Five Field-row, where the
father, recovering from a quinsy, ordered,
like a zealous Catholic, twenty-two masses,
to express his gratitude to God; moreover
he vowed to undertake the conversion of