Two elements have in their turn exercised their sway over Gounod, and both have helped to impart, either separately or jointly, to his music certain of those characteristics familiar to all who have studied his works--religion and love. The mysticism and sensuous tenderness that pervade his compositions, whether sacred or secular, are evidently the reflex of a mind imbued with lofty aspirations, swayed at one moment by worldly tendencies, but returning with renewed intensity towards the pursuit of the ideal. Something of the same spirit may be discerned in the musical personality of another great artist, and both Liszt and Gounod exhibit in their widely different works the dual ascendancy of divine and human love. "Das Ewig Weibliche zieht uns hinan," the words with which Goethe terminates the second part of his "Faust," are singularly applicable to the composer whose greatest work is founded upon the immortal poet's tragedy, and who has been especially successful in his treatment of the sentimental portions thereof. The sensuous nature of his music is noticeable even in his religious compositions, of which it does not constitute the least charm. The future composer of "Faust" was born in Paris on the 17th of June 1818. From his earliest age he displayed exceptional musical aptitudes, and showed signs of an undoubted vocation for the career in which he was destined so conspicuously to shine. In her "Life of Gounod" Mdlle. de Bovet relates the following anecdotes of his childhood: "At the age of two, in the gardens of Passy, where he was taken for exercise, he would say, 'That dog barks in Sol,' and the neighbours used to call him _Le petit musicien_. He likes to repeat what he said one day in that far distant childhood. He had been listening to the different cries of the street vendors, 'Oh!' he exclaimed suddenly, 'that woman cries out a Do that weeps.' The two notes with which she hawked her carrots and cabbages actually formed the minor third--C, E flat. The baby, scarcely out of his leading-strings, already felt the mournful character of this combination." When about seven years of age he was taken to hear Weber's "Freischütz," or rather the mutilated version of this masterpiece by Castil-Blaze known under the name of "Robin des Bois." The impression produced upon his youthful mind by Weber's beautiful melodies appears to have been very great. A few years later, when a schoolboy, he heard Rossini's "Otello" interpreted by Malibran and Rubini, and the Italian "maestro's" florid strains seem to have struck him in an equal degree. His enthusiasm, however, reached its highest pitch when he became acquainted with "Don Giovanni." He has ever since been an ardent devotee at the shrine of Mozart, and of late years his admiration for the master's music seems, if anything, to have increased.