"Let me suggest, then, that you allow the music lessons and compel the school lessons, taking away the instrument if he fails at school; and when he is old enough and wise enough to be a jurist, he will be capable of choosing for himself the work of his life." "I thank you, your grace! The advice is fair and judicious, and I shall be happy to act upon it. If I have made a mistake, it was out of concern for the child's best good, your grace." "An error on the safe side, Mr. Händel. A-ha, my small minstrel, do you hear how your father and I have arranged matters?" Georg had not fully understood the conversation, but he gathered that the duke had somehow persuaded the surgeon to allow his little son to play upon the clavichord as much as he wished, if he were faithful at school. "Does the prospect please you?" asked the duke, his eyes twinkling. "It does, it does!" cried Georg, his face radiant. "I am obliged to your grace, and I am sure that you are almost as good and fine a person as my Aunt Anna." One night, in London, a concert was given at a certain music-hall, and the money earned from the sale of tickets was to be used to relieve the poor children of the city. Such a throng of people crowded into the hall that every seat was promptly filled, and the door-keepers were obliged to turn away many who desired to attend. King George II. appeared in the royal box, and when he had been respectfully saluted by the people, the hall grew still. The stage was filled with singers, and soon the room resounded with the thrilling notes of a new piece called "The Messiah." The people had expected to be only pleasantly entertained, but as one strain followed another, they bent forward entranced. Such harmonies they had never listened to before, and the people in the hall were moved to the point of tears. At length the sounds grew so impressive that the king could contain himself no longer, but leaped to his feet. Instantly the people, following the lead of their sovereign, rose impulsively in their places, and so standing, they waited until the glorious chorus was ended. Throughout the performance, a fine old gentleman sat quietly on the stage near the singers, listening intently. His face wore a look of noble earnestness, and he did not smile until the last note died away, and from every part of the house voices cried,-- "Händel! Händel!" For a moment he did not respond to their calls, but as the hall fell into a tumult, and the shout increased to a deafening roar, the white-haired gentleman rose and quietly bowed. This did not satisfy the crowd, and from above, below, from right and from left, excited men and women demanded that he should play for them. The old gentleman bowed again, but finding that the audience would not depart until he had yielded to its desire, he turned toward the massive organ at his right.