i
The large sweeps of sound floated over the orchestra like the wind
playing upon a hill-side covered with young heather, and I sat and
wondered which of the Alpine passes Handel crossed when he went into
Italy. What time of the year was it? What kind of weather did he have?
Were the spring flowers out? Did he walk the greater part of the way as
we do now? And what did he hear? For he must sometimes have heard music
inside him—and that, too, as much above what he has written down as what
he has written down is above all other music. No man can catch all, or
always the best, of what is put for a moment or two within his reach.
Handel took as much and as near the best, doubtless, as mortal man can
take; but he must have had moments and glimpses which were given to him
alone and which he could tell no man.
ii
I saw the world a great orchestra filled with angels whose instruments
were of gold. And I saw the organ on the top of the axis round which all
should turn, but nothing turned and nothing moved and the angels stirred
not and all was as still as a stone, and I was myself also, like the
rest, as still as a stone.
Then I saw some huge, cloud-like forms nearing, and behold! it was the
Lord bringing two of his children by the hand.
“O Papa!” said one, “isn’t it pretty?”
“Yes, my dear,” said the Lord, “and if you drop a penny into the box the
figures will work.”
Then I saw that what I had taken for the keyboard of the organ was no
keyboard but only a slit, and one of the little Lords dropped a plaque of
metal into it. And then the angels played and the world turned round and
the organ made a noise and the people began killing one another and the
two little Lords clapped their hands and were delighted.