River, River, brimming River, Broad and deep and _still_ as Time, Seeming _still_--yet still in motion, Tending onward to the ocean, Just like mortal prime. River, River, rapid River, Swifter now you slip away; Swift and silent as an arrow, Through a channel dark and narrow, Like life's closing day. River, River, headlong River, Down you dash into the sea; Sea, that line hath never sounded, Sea, that voyage hath never rounded, Like eternity. _Blackwood's Magazine._ * * * * * The Anecdote Gallery. * * * * * YOUTH OF MOZART. _Abridged from the Foreign Quarterly Review._ When we bring into one view all the qualifications of Mozart as a composer and practical musician, the result is astounding. The same man, under the age of thirty-six, is at the head of dramatic, sinfonia, and piano-forte music--is eminent in the church style--and equally at his ease in every variety, from the concerto to the country dance or baby song: he puts forth about 800 compositions, including masses, motetts, operas, and fragments of various kinds; at the same time supporting himself by teaching and giving public performances, at which he executes concertos on the piano-forte, the violin, or the organ, or plays _extempore_. But when we learn that the infant Mozart, at four years of age, began to compose, and by an instinct perception of beauty to make correct basses to melodies; and also that he became a great performer on two instruments, without the usual labour of practice, we cease to be surprised at the mechanical dexterity of his fingers in after-life, when composition and other pursuits had engrossed the time usually employed in preserving the power of execution.