Another wonderful part of his pre-maturity was the being able, at two years and four months old, to transpose into the most extraneous and difficult keys whatever he played; and now, in his extemporaneous flights, he modulates into all keys with equal facility. The last qualification which I shall point out as extraordinary in this infant musician, is the being able to play an extemporary bass to easy melodies when performed by another person upon the same instrument. But these basses must not be imagined correct, according to the rules of counterpoint, any more than his voluntaries. He generally gives, indeed, the key-note to passages formed from its common chord and its inversions, and is quick at discovering when the fifth of the key will serve as a bass. At other times, he makes the third of the key serve as an accompaniment to melodies formed from the harmony of the chord to the key note; and if simple passages are played slow, in a regular progression, ascending or descending, he soon finds out that thirds or tenths below the treble will serve his purpose in furnishing an agreeable accompaniment. Of this Dr. Burney made trial, and found that the child was equally ready in finding a treble to a bass, as a bass to a treble, if played in slow notes; that is, if, after the chord of C natural is struck, C be made sharp, he soon finds out that A makes a good bass to it; and, on the contrary, if, after the chord of D with a sharp third, F is made natural, and A is changed into B, he instantly gives G for the bass. Dr. Burney, to this account, has added the names of several musical prodigies of this kind, and, among others, the two sons of the Rev. Mr. Westley, the eldest of whom, Charles, at two years and three quarters old, surprised his father by playing a tune on the harpsichord readily, and in just time; soon after he played several, whatever his mother sung, or whatever he heard in the streets. Samuel, the youngest, though he was three years old before he aimed at a tune, yet by constantly hearing his brother practice, and being accustomed to good music, and masterly execution, before he was six years old, arrived at such perfection as to surpass, in many particulars, the attainments of most professors, and before he could write, was a composer, and mentally set the airs of several oratorios, which he retained in memory till he was eight years old, and then wrote them down. MADAME DE STAEL. Few incidents in the life of any lady, ignorant or literary, are of greater consequence than marriage: it is well known that Madame de Stael kept her second experiment of this nature secret, and that the circumstance gave rise to many surmises, to some scandal, and to endless discussions in all the blue-stocking coteries of Europe. Mad. de Saussure's account of this matter, from her work just from the press, cannot fail to be read with interest; it follows: “As I am not writing the life of Madame de Stael, I ought to refrain from multiplying narratives, that would give this sketch the appearance of an imperfect biography. Nevertheless, I should reproach myself were I to pass over in silence an event of such importance as her second marriage, and the circumstance of her life, that could not fail to excite most astonishment, obliges me to enter into some particulars. “A young man, of good family, inspired a great deal of interest at Geneva by what was said of his eminent courage, and by the contrast between his age and his tottering walk, his paleness, and the state of weakness to which he was reduced. Some wounds received in Spain, and the effects of which ultimately proved mortal, had brought him to the gates of death, and he remained ill and suffering. A compassionate word or two, addressed to the unfortunate man by Mad. de Stael, had a prodigious effect on him. There was something celestial in her tone of voice. Madame de Tesse said, “If I were a queen, I would have Madame de Stael to talk to me always." This ravishing music renewed the existence of the young man : his head and heart were fired: he set no bounds to his wishes, and immediately formed the greatest projects. "I will love her so," said he, at a very early period, to one of his friends, " that she will at length marry me." A singular expression, that might be inspired by various motives; but to which the most uninterrupted devotedness and enthusi asm oblige us to give a favourable interpretation. "These lofty pretensions were seconded by circumstances. Madame de Stael was extremely unhappy, and weary of being so. Her highly elastic mind had a tendency to resilience, and required but one hope. Thus, at the moment when the bonds of her captivity were drawing more and more close, and gloomy clouds were gathering over her head from all quarters, a new day came to break upon her; happiness revived as from its ashes in her desolate heart; and the dream of all her life, matrimonial love, seemed capable of being realized to her. What such a union was, in her eyes, is well known. That pleasantry of hers, which has been quoted, "I will oblige my daughter to marry for love," expressed a serious opinion. The thought of forming such a tie herself had never been altogether a stranger to her mind. In speaking of the asylum, which she hoped one day to find in England, she has sometimes said; "I feel a want of tenderness, of happiness, and of support; and, if I find there a noble character, I will make a sacrifice of my liberty." This noble character was found, on a sudden, close by her. No doubt she might have made a more suitable choice; but the inconvenience of love matches is, that they do not originate from choice. "It is certain, however, that this union rendered her happy. She had formed a just opinion of the noble mind of M. Rocca. She found in him extreme tenderness, constant admiration, chivalrous sentiments; and, what always pleased Madame de Stael, language naturally poetic, imagination, even talents, as some writings of his show, graceful pleasantry, a sort of irregular and unexpected wit, which stimulated hers, and gave her life the zest of variety. To these were added profound pity for the sufferings he endured, and apprehensions continually reviving, that kept alive her emotions, and enchained her thoughts. "She would have done better, no doubt, had she avowed this marriage; but a degree of timidity, from which the sort of courage she possessed did not emancipate her, and her attachment to the name she had rendered illustrious, having restrained her, her ideas were wholly employed in parrying the difficulties of her situation. Must we say, that it would have been better for her not to have placed herself in that situation? Must we say, that Madame de Stael is not to be set up as an example in every point? To this she herself would willingly have assented: this she has said to her children, this she has insinuated in her writings, as much as a proud mind, conscious of its own greatness, would permit. She was a phenomenon, single in its kind, upon earth. With her, we forget the conditions of our nature; we forget, that society, being arranged for the mean of human faculties, prodigious gifts are discordant to the organization of life. It would have been something still more extraordinary than Madame de Stael, if nothing had been extraordinary in her but genius, if an interior existence of such activity, the actual source of her talents, had manifested itself by her talents alone. "The happy improvidence of her character was of great service to her in the course of this union. After severe alarms for the health of M. Rocca, she quietly resumed the belief, that his life was not in danger, and that his sufferings were merely casual. Nothing remained of her uneasiness but a constant attention, remarkable in a person of such vivacity, to the cares necessary for his preservation. All her great intellect was employed to serve him. But who can express what she suf fered in critical moments? At Pisa, where he was near dying, she compared herself to Marshal Ney, who was then expecting his sentence every hour. Endued with talents, that preserved her from no sorrow, and augmented all she felt, she has since said, that she would write a book, the title of which should be, One sole unhappiness in life, the loss of a beloved object.' "This unhappiness was destined to be that of the young and unfortunate Rocca. That life so threatened, that frail reed, which had served for a moment as a support to an existence apparently so strong, was still less frail than that existence itself. However, he did not long survive her. Sorrow and carelessness of life, soon put an end to his short existence. He repaired to the fine climate of Provence, to breath his last, and expired in the arms of a brother. "One of Bonaparte's ministers having desired her to be told, that the emperor would reward her if she would attach herself to him, she answered, I was aware that a certificate of being alive is necessary to the receipt of an annuity, but I did not know that it required a declaration of love.' "From her earliest youth she had acquired a habit of suffering interruption cheerfully. As M. Necker had forbidden his wife to write, lest he should be embarrassed by the idea of incommoding her on entering her apartment, Mademoiselle Necker, who did not wish to draw upon herself such a prohibition, had accustomed herself to write as it were flying; so that seeing her always standing or leaning on a corner of the mantle-piece, her father could never suppose that he was interrupting her in any serious employment. To such a degree did she respect this little foible of M. Necker, that she had not the slightest accommodation for writing in her apartment till long after she had lost him. At last, when Corinna had made a great noise in foreign countries, she said to me,' I have a great desire to have a large table; I think I have a right to one now.' * * * "There were few moments of her life when she totally gave up labour. Her faculties most commonly predominated over her grief: and, as what she wrote always bore some relation to her sorrows, she could still write, when reading was insufficient to call off her thoughts from them. I comprehend nothing of what I read,' she said, 'and so I am obliged to write.' "But if her mind loved to form literary schemes, on the other hand, it very quickly lost sight of her old productions. "When a work is once printed,' said she, 'I trouble myself about it no farther; it makes its own way as well as it can.' Except Delphine, which she reviewed carefully, because she had been censured on the score of the moral effect of this novel, I do not think that she ever read over one of her own books, she even thought of them so little, that she forgot them all in succession. When an expression in them was quoted to her, she was astonished, and said; Did I indeed write that? I am quite charmed with it; it is excellently well expressed.' Two of her friends, in concert, once remodelled her chapter on love, in The Influence of the Passions, substituting divine in the room of terrestrial love. When they read this piece to her, she listened to the end with the utmost attention, quite enchanted, and eager to learn the name of the author." This is a very natural statement. We believe that most persons who have written much will recognize its truth. The almost absolute oblivion of ideas, consigned from the mind to paper, and the forgetfulness of important transactions in other relations of life united therewith, would form a curious subject of philosophical inquiry to any literary man. But to return to Mad. de Stael. "She was very patient under the seizure of her work on Germany; and when she was told that General Savary had sent the edition to the mill, in order to be converted into pasteboard, I wish, at least,' she answered, that he would send me the paste-board for my bonnets.' "She was conscious of her superiority, and has sometimes said of an author mentioned to her,' He is not my equal; and if ever we enter into a contest, he will come out of it limping.' When yet very young, and at a time when she had rather a presentiment than any proof of her strength, I have heard her carry her hopes so high, that I have much doubted her ever realizing them. Her auditors might sometimes be astonished at certain phrases, not often used, which she uttered with the greatest simplicity: With all the understanding I possess, with my talents, my reputation,' &c. She frequently repeated to her friends the praises she received in letters, but there was an extreme good nature in her self-love. It was not always present; and when it was, it said frankly,' Here I am.' * * * * * "Once she was asked what book she would choose, if she were confined to the possession of one. After excepting the Bible, and the Course of Religious Morals of her father, she said, that for the sake of thought, she would take Bacon, as the author who seemed to her most inexhaustible. "Works of imagination transported her beyond conception. In this respect, she had impressions of extraordinary vivacity; |