e cared for were
such as were capable of producing musical sounds. With this love for
music, however, the father showed no sympathy whatever; he regarded
the art with contempt, as something beneath the serious notice of one
who aspired to be a gentleman, and that his child should have
expressed an earnest desire to be taught to play only served to make
him angry. He had decided that George was to be a lawyer, and in order
that nothing should interfere with the carrying out of this intention
he refused to allow the boy to attend school, lest his fondness for
music should induce some one to teach him his notes. Poor George was
therefore compelled to stifle his longing whilst in his father's
presence, and content himself with 'making music' in the seclusion of
his own chamber. It may seem strange that Handel's mother should not
have interposed in order that her boy should be taught music, but
there is no doubt that the elderly surgeon ruled his household with a
firm hand, which not even his wife's intercession would have made him
relax. Moreover, Dorothea Handel was by nature far too gentle and
submissive to seek to turn her husband from his decision. 'Meister
Goerge,' as he was styled, had been twice married. Dorothea, his second
wife, was much younger than her husband, and possessed a gentle
disposition that served to win her a place in the hearts of all who
knew her, and that little George Frederick had his mother's sympathy
in his love for music we cannot doubt.

[Illustration: HANDEL.
From photo RISCHGITZ.]

Handel was about five years of age when the wistful glances which he
bestowed upon other children who were more fortunate than he in being
permitted to learn music aroused the active sympathy of a kind friend,
who procured for him a dumb spinet--a small harpsichord having its
sound deadened by strips of cloth tied round the strings. The
instrument was secretly conveyed to a lumber-room in the surgeon's
house, where a corner had been cleared for its reception, and thither
would Handel delightedly repair at such times as he could do so
without attracting notice. Hour after hour would pass whilst thus
enrapt, until the shades of evening fell, or the moonbeams creeping
across the instrument aroused him from his reverie. Often when the
house was hushed in slumber the child would leave his bed, and steal
away to the garret in order to commune with his beloved art. Day after
day he laboured thus, mastering his