might try the beautiful organ in the chapel. The
organist stood beside him and arranged the stops, whilst the child,
with a feeling of coming joy that was almost akin to fear, placed his
fingers upon the keys. The next moment his hesitation had vanished,
and the sounds were coming in response--one minute low and deep, then
mysteriously calling to him from distant corners of the dim galleries,
like sweet angel voices which he had the power to summon by the
pressure of his fingers. In his lonely garret, fingering his spinet,
he had longed for such an opportunity as this, to be enabled to make
the great organ-pipes sing to him in whispers, or to thunder back to
him in grand, deep chords that would set the whole air vibrating with
music. And now the opportunity he craved for had come, and he could
speak his musical thoughts into this noble instrument, which had the
power to draw from the depths of his soul all that that soul
contained. Ah, Handel was glad now that he had persevered and worked
so hard at his music. He was glad, too, that he had undertaken that
long, toilsome run behind his father's carriage, for it had brought to
him the greatest joy of his life.

[Illustration: '_He called to the coachman to stop._']

On several occasions after this the organist came to the chapel on
purpose to listen to Handel as the latter played, and he was so struck
by the boy's genius that he determined to surprise the Duke by letting
Handel play His Highness out of chapel. Accordingly, on the following
Sunday, when the service was concluded, the organist lifted Handel on
to the organ-stool, and desired him to play. If the young player had
needed courage and self-confidence, it must have been at this moment
when bidden to perform before the Duke and all his people. But he
needed neither, for he instantly forgot all else but the music which
he was burning to express, and without a moment's hesitation complied
with the organist's request.

The Duke and his friends had risen to their feet as Handel began to
play, but the former, who was a good musician himself, instantly
detected a difference in the playing, and, glancing towards the
organ-loft, he was astonished to behold the figure of a child bending
over the keys. But as he listened his astonishment became greater, for
it was no longer the child's figure that arrested his attention, but
the melody which was pouring forth from the instrument. Instead of
walking out of the chapel,